


The Eighth

by emi_the_bee



Category: The Umbrella Academy, Umbrella Academy, tua
Genre: F/M, Five, Number Five - Freeform, five hargreeves - Freeform, the boy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 50,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26669209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emi_the_bee/pseuds/emi_the_bee
Summary: (A novel of the TV show)Everything Number Five has done was always for his family. He cared about them more than anything, fought 45 years of loneliness and watched them all die. But he abandoned much more when he got himself stuck in the apocalypse of 2019, he abandoned his promise. A promise he'd made to the eighth of his siblings, the sister that didn't know how to stand up for herself in words, only by staying put and refusing to leave the ground she was holding, even as tears ran down her face. The sister that had cleaned the cuts Five had insisted were 'fine' and helped him with the things their father taught that he was (rather shamefully) not perfect at. Despite all of his refusals, of his yelling and cruel words, she stayed put and persisted. But the day he made her cry, he promised himself he never would again. If anyone could cry, he would make her laugh.As he taught her confidence and bravery, she taught him patience and kindness, how to be calm under all the pressures and doubt. And that was a lifetime ago. Now he's suddenly back, she dreads that after years of mourning him as dead, she might have let the sister he knew die as well. But he won't abandon her again.Never..
Relationships: Five Hargreeves x OFC, Number Five/Original Female Character
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fan-fiction of the Umbrella Academy TV show (basically just a novel version of it) I have meticulously watched and noted down the entire show and transcript into a novel form with the introduction of an eighth Hargreeves that I wanted Five to have as someone to be vulnerable with, someone he confides in and is the most partial to out of the rest of his siblings. 
> 
> Number 8 is no way a depiction of myself or serving as my own way of living through the story, I just wanted to explore this dynamic and see how other people would view it. It is written in third-person and primarily from Nelle's (Number 8) perspective, but it follows the show almost exactly. It's not just a Five x Reader, I wanted it to be more than that.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it in your own personal way and thank you :)

**1st October 1989 –**

Of the many activities one could find themselves partaking in on such a fine, particularly regal Sunday afternoon (a rare occasion for England’s usual October bitterness), taking a leisurely walk beneath the gentle waves of bobbing breeze, leaves of a dying hearth ensnared within, was not an uncommon thing. Neither was sharing it with someone else, not needing words, just their hand to keep the chill’s nipping teeth at bay. It was comfortable. It was happy. It was the type of sunset that rolled out future portraits depicting a promising life, tempted the mind to wander to thoughts of someday wearing a ring on that finger he was stroking against or a child on his shoulders. Just dreams that grew feet and fled from their nocturnal prison, brandishing the tools they’d used as they chipped piece by piece away from the mind’s reality. Foolish things not to be thought of just yet, her mother would say, wait until your heart realises it has a brain on top. And it was growing colder with the fading light. Time to go home.

But it would seem those dreams had tunnelled down into the pit of her stomach, wriggling like a knot of cannibalistic earthworms and dealing a solid punch to where she had one day hoped to bear a child. A hope that was suddenly fulfilled at the exact same moment as 42 other women around the world gave birth to infants they had never conceived prior to when their labour started. None of these women had been anywhere near the concept of pregnancy at the start of the day, yet by the end of it, all of them held in their arms a crying babe.

And where there’s unnatural happenings, there’s a profit to be made and a prize to be taken! If these were such bizarre births, the little things themselves were probably just as strange and curious. At least, that was the incentive behind the generous wallet of Sir Reginald Hargreeves. The austere man did not only seek out and purchase one of these 43 children, but a grand total of 8. He couldn’t take just one. He wasn’t raising a child; he was poking at live wires with both wet hands.

Often blamed upon the universe are people’s own choices and mistakes, the way their miserable lives turned out because their lazy legs couldn’t quite shuffle over to the opportunity they wanted to take. A lot of those 43 women had questioned this somehow conscious universe, too wrapped up in how the child came to be and not such petty things that meant they were different in some meaningful sense. But the universe is far too busy and immense to dote any significant portion of time upon our brief existence and dying planet.

And Sir Reginald was right.


	2. Chapter 1: It's Never A Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years have divided the Hargreeves siblings on their own paths of choice, they reunite at their childhood home to mark the death of their adopted father, Sir Reginald Hargreeves
> 
> 'Mom' isn't quite right, time and space has been ripped right in half and their father's monocle is missing. 
> 
> Malfunctions, nostalgia and foul play are all worthy contenders for the most current Hargreeves sibling collision.

**24th March 2019 –**

Most people would call a bunch of kids running around in masks and uniform whilst performing inconceivable stunts and apprehending criminals ‘superheroes’. The kind that are always plastered on the front of a comic that is never seen on shelves because it’s always sold out. And they were to the public eye; children with incredible powers who only used them to protect the welfare of others and stop crimes. No one would compare their life to the equivalent of wearing shackles made from your own bones as enforced by the heavy thumb of their patriarch.

Their ‘father’, their ‘dad’ – their captor – was announced dead only 3 days ago.

* * *

The grand mansion had never once shed its smug smirk as it leaned down upon the shoulders of its neighbouring buildings, an eyesore if its architecture hadn’t been of such classy, refined taste. But it was deceiving with its open maw offering the escape of a library or an exploration in a museum with only its gritted teeth (in the form of an ornate black gate sporting an elegant ‘U’ and ‘A’) to warn passers-by that it was actually a privately-owned building.

It stood just as foreboding above each of its old inhabitants as they arrived back at the childhood cage they’d never planned on flocking back to. If the door was unlocked and the key-holder now dead, why should the little birds need their old, cramped nest of bars?

Inside, it was emptier. The walls had stretched and warped to reach the shadowy heights that had once dwarfed the 8 exceedingly powerful children, as if the building felt the need to scare what it was fearful of itself. There was nothing new; same old furniture in the same old orientation. But still, it felt lived in. There was a distinct lack of dust gathered and settled anywhere, no spiders had taken up the real estate opportunity of a lifetime that was the mantle of the fireplace and everything was just as it had always been. Except there wasn’t the scratchy hem of a tartan skirt hanging at her knees, nor the constantly undone laces of black brogues eager to trip her up and paint her face in the majority of her acquired bruises. Instead she had the delightful comfort of Velcro-strap trainers. A God-send if ever the young woman needed to proclaim one.

If a stranger happened to catch sight of her for more than a few seconds, the fellow might perhaps comment that was nothing remarkable about her. She was unassuming with her head tilted slightly downwards at an awkward angle, her buttery blonde hair a shame to be tucked away in a small bun or ponytail and her smaller-than-average height just enough to make her seem defenceless. Just a girl, in the eyes and words of most everyone. Until they caught sight of her own. A striking blue that melted any pleasant feeling they might have associated with her and they never looked away, they didn’t follow the line her head was drawing. They just stared as if she had a million things to say, but no mouth to speak them from. No one would ever suspect her of being affiliated with the infamous Umbrella Academy in any sense or relation, much less one of the very own so-called superheroes.

Number 8, if one was to go by their father’s affectionate pet-names, but she was more likely to respond to her mother’s preferred name: Nelle. An old name, for a young girl, but her mother remained sure that she would do well to grow into it ‘quite spectacularly’. No one had ever remarked upon her behaviour as anything quite as spectacular as ‘spectacular’ and the child had kept a beam on her face and a skip in her clumsy feet for the rest of the week, when she took particular joy in responding to her new identity. A name that she now felt guilty for carrying on her face all those years, that should have stayed with that sweet girl. Instead she held its hand like a tantrumming child, dragging it through the public eye as it kicked and yelled, demanding something unintelligible.

And she had dragged it all the way inside to its birthplace, feeling it grow heavier with each step she took in facing the rest of her childhood.

But then it ran, pulling her along instead as she came to look in a mirror of nostalgia. Another unassuming young woman that stood just shorter than her, wearing an ageing, tired mask of the one plastered over her controversial novel revealing all the ins and outs of the once egregiously secret family. And she’d left nothing out, every raw, reeking detail that shot off the shelf until it had worn out the headlines in the tabloids. Reading every one of those 563 pages with that voice in her head, it was as if Nelle had never parted ways with Vanya at all.

“Nelle.” A chime of relief and genuine delight as she met her gaze told her all she needed to know; Vanya had seen her prior to any of their other siblings. That ease in her voice would fade along with the relaxed line of her shoulders the minute another Hargreeves made their presence known.

The blonde woman extended her arms out to her sister, drawing her into a slow embrace, which the brunette eagerly hastened, falling back into that old comfort they had shared in her bedroom when it was just the two of them and the wistful notes of her beloved violin. They echoed from those distant memories as Nelle pressed her head a little deeper into the curve of Vanya’s neck, wondering if her instrument felt as secure as she did nestled there for such a brief time.

“I missed you.” Nelle whispered before they withdrew from each other’s arms, still standing in the hallway with the draft from her way in dissipating in dregs.

“Yeah, I missed y-“

“Vanya?”

Both heads turned at the sound of their only other sister, always outnumbered by boys, but it was still one of the loudest and iconic from those forgotten days of youth. As Nelle’s head dipped down, Vanya’s tilted up; one gaze on her well-heeled boots and the other on her well-framed face.

“You’re actually here.” A statement that would have sounded pleasantly surprised if not delivered with a concerned lilt and almost demeaning tone, as though she were questioning her sister’s audacity rather than her courage. The soft chuckle that followed was too breathless and sounded more akin to a scoff.

Nelle could have sworn the way their approaching sister’s eyes were trained on Vanya that she had drifted out of her field of vision entirely, but as her hand brushed against the sister standing beside her, she was certain it was just a preferred exclusion; a rare moment when Vanya commanded the attention of the room. And it had nothing to do with her violin or musical talent. Just someone to stare at. Nelle’s fingers flexed suddenly, so close to Vanya’s that her own hand flinched away in a jerking motion, a minute gasp escaping the tightened line of her lips.

As though that small breath had snatched all but one of her vocal cords, Vanya’s greeting squeaked out in a subdued, forced manner.

“Hey, Allison.” If her sister had put just the tiniest bit of extra force into her stride, it would have drowned her words completely.

“Hey sis.” The famous actress continued her approach, her more elegant, sweeping height casting a shadow over both of the other two women, but it wasn’t as cold as either had been dreading. At this closer distance, her features appeared softened and almost saddened, a private insight of how she really felt for those closest to her, not just the greedy eyes behind flashing cameras. But though her eyes were welcomingly open windows, her mouth remained tightly sealed and elusive.

Her two sisters held their breath as she came to a stop just short of treading on their toes before an abrupt chuckle could no longer hide itself away behind her instinctive performing mask, a smile cracking and prying it apart as she leaned down to bring Vanya into an embrace. It didn’t last long, but it was more affection than she had expected from her other sister and her head tried to make itself comfortable on the unfamiliar shoulder of a different person.

After greeting her again with a polite smile as she emerged from the brief hug, Allison’s gaze shifted to her blonder sister. “Oh, Nelle..” Her voice a softer whisper, carrying old taunts and teasing from childhood away with her hidden apology as she held her in a tighter, more secure hold.

“Ah. What is she doing here?”

The abrasive tone of a certain knife-throwing brother of theirs disgruntled the gentler mood the group of women had managed to muster up between them in a matter of minutes. The embracing sisters broke apart as it was rudely squished under the heel of the scarred man that made no attempt to introduce himself (although to think he’d ever needed one was a joke he’d have laughed at until his eyes were wet) as he brushed past them, sparing no glances at any of his sisters.

“You don’t belong here. Not after what you did.” The strut in his leather-suit-clad legs was cocky and had all the confidence in authority as the chief of police. Vanya’s face fell as though he had just announced she’d be moved to death row, looking as timid as a schoolgirl who’d seen an urban rat for the first time. Nelle’s finger inched closer to Vanya’s gloved hand, stroking along the inside of her palm in a small reassurance.

Allison acted as a wall with both hands in her pockets as she only gave Diego the privilege of her head turning in his direction. “You’re seriously gonna do this today?”

Their brother offered no reply as he marched up the main stairs with the same discipline and technique of soldiers in an army. Or super-kids in an academy…

“Way to dress for the occasion, by the way.” The snide comment from her sister coaxed the twinge of a smirk from the corners of Nelle’s mouth without her even realising. Vanya’s face sunk lower.

As he turned the corner at the top of the lower floor of stairs, Diego left them with a final word. How he loved the final word in an argument, even the pettiest (which were usually the ones he was involved in). “At least I’m wearing black.”

“So are you.” Nelle murmured to her shorter sister, but her brows had creased, and her face now held an uncertain frown. Her head gave a little tremble of a shake.

“You know what? I-I’m…maybe he’s right. And I shouldn’t-”

“Forget about him.” As Nelle’s eyes trained on Vanya, so did Allison’s, the private warmth of considerate attention that she was so unused to now settled on the most snubbed of the Hargreeves children. There was a sincere gratitude in their sister’s eyes as she held them on the brunette. “I’m glad you’re here.” Her brown eyes flickered over to Nelle to include her. “Both of you.”

There were a few beats of silence that were beginning to drag and empty as the three sisters exchanged twitches of smiles and acknowledging blinks. Despite it only being a grand total of about 3 minutes, it was the most time the three sisters had ever spent with each other altogether in the same room.

* * *

Now one sister short of the complete set of Hargreeves girls, Vanya and Nelle emerged together into the superfluous heart of the house. Back in its day, it perhaps would have boasted parties and huge gatherings of people to fill up each green and white tile and back right up against the bar and hearth on either end. Now the only heads that turned one’s way were stuffed and mounted on the walls or experiencing technical difficulties…

It was overtly grand for no reason at all, especially not as a home for 8 children, with sofas any grandparent would have wrapped in bubble-wrap out of fear of stains and a mahogany table that was an unmissable target for cup ring-marks. And as if the variety of the African savannahs weren’t enough unsightly décor, portraits of two figures to be remembered in reverence were upon the walls over either hearth; the smaller being their long-lost brother who disappeared after an argument with the depicted in the larger portrait, a constant reminder of their patriarch and founder.

Vanya had gravitated towards a hog head, spying the treasured magazines and articles detailing the adventures and gossip of her 7 siblings, each cased and sealed behind glass. She didn’t linger, moving swiftly to the bookshelf for the subject of her inspection.

Nelle had found the portrait of their missing brother to be the captor of her own attention. Although she wore a long-sleeved sweater (black for the occasion, of course), a shiver ran across her arms, leaving goosebumps in its wake. A chill spread down from her scalp and she choked on an unexpected swallow. Guilt flavoured her tongue and crawled down to sit in her stomach like a natterjack, fidgeting relentlessly.

A familiar low-placed hand on her back settled it down as she turned to find the friendly, smiling face of another resident in the Hargreeves’ household. A ‘family friend’ wasn’t quite the suitable term, but ‘family’ didn’t work either. Debate aside, he was welcome under either category.

The male was in fact a chimpanzee and dressed rather smartly in a blazer and tie paired with some neatly tailored dress-slacks. The perfect fit of his wardrobe was more than enough evidence to signify his place within the household. One could tell he was old not just by the greying of his hair, but by the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and the cane he used to help keep him as upright as his primate-stance allowed.

Nelle had smiled in return, glancing over at Vanya as he did too.

“Welcome home, Ms. Vanya and Ms. Nelle.” All the thoughtful care of a grandfather or uncle was well-placed in his aged voice.

As Nelle drew her attention to her sister, she noticed the book she now held in her hands. The smile she’d grown shrunk back to its roots and a wince sprung up like a weed at the photo on the back and the bold white letters on the spine. It could only be _that_ book.

Vanya held it like a hammer to fix a crooked nail as she walked her way over to join the chimpanzee and her sister. “Pogo.” She was eager for this hug, initiating it herself as he spared an arm from his cane to wrap around her back, patting her as they released. He chuckled as Nelle moved in with the same determination and he smiled as he too embraced her.

“So good to see the two of you.”

The sisters nodded in agreement, but Vanya was still keenly gripping onto her retrieved book, almost brandishing it before Pogo as his weary amber eyes fell to it. “Ah, yes. Your autobiography.” The certainty in his tone told them both that he had recognised more than the cover, but the sad story within as well.

“Do you know, um…” The seventh Hargreeves seemed to wrestle between her tongue and her teeth as she tried to find the polite version of the question she asked, trying to skirt around it as painlessly as possible. She promptly gave up and blurted out the prominent thought in her mind outright. “Did he ever read it?”

As Pogo looked away with a musing ‘hmm’, Nelle rested her hand on her sister’s upper arm, rubbing up and down against the pleather sleeves of her bomber jacket. Vanya’s muscles relaxed, but her eyes were still seeking their answer from the chimpanzee.

He knew not to drag out her strain and tried to ease her with a shake of the head and a more neutral answer. “Not that I’m aware of.”

Nelle gave her arm a squeeze before letting go, following her eyes as they searched for a decent distraction and coming across the ornately framed portrait hanging proudly with its illuminating lamp over the more communal of the two hearths.

“How long has it been since Five disappeared?”

Flinching instinctively, Nelle’s head snapped too quickly to the portrait of their brother. Seeing his likeness stirred up appeaseable memories, hearing his name invoked a fight-or-flight reaction. Vanya noticed and instantly opened her mouth for an apology, as though she wished she’d chosen literally anything else to redirect the topic of conversation to, but Pogo drew breath first.

“It’s been 16 years, 4 months and 14 days.”

All three heads turned inwards to question the preciseness of time passed since the first Hargreeves sibling was lost.

Pogo had a simple justification. “Your father insisted I keep track.”

Funny, their father always seemed to be the excuse for everything in this family.

“You wanna know something stupid?” Vanya didn’t leave room for a ‘yes’ or ‘no’, but with the urge to patch up her mistake of words for her sister’s sake, she would have continued regardless. “We always used to leave the lights on for him.”

Nelle’s head lifted and her eyes began to prick as she recalled those nights of tip-toeing downstairs after they’d ‘bid goodnight’ to their father, hand in hand as they made their way to the front porch light switch and ensured it was switched on before continuing to check the rest of the downstairs floor. The two sisters shared a knowing smile, clearly reliving the same memory together.

“We were scared that he would come back; it would be late, and the house would be dark, and he wouldn’t be able to find us, so he’d leave again.” Both Nelle and Pogo were listening raptly to her divulgence, a fond warmth present in both pairs of eyes. “So, every night we’d make a little snack and make sure all the lights were on.” She shrugged simply.

Pogo was quick to nod in more than understanding. “Oh, I remember your snacks. I’m pretty sure I stepped in half those peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches.”

As Vanya sighed softly, Nelle let out an involuntary burst of laughter, apologising under her breath as she steadied her breathing, relieved the nerves had triggered happiness from the bittersweet moments of shared childhood before grief from the loss of their brother. Pogo reminded himself again with the portrait of that rambunctious, stubborn fifth of the Hargreeves siblings before turning to them with condolence in his empathetic eyes.

“Your father always believed that Number Five was still out there somewhere. He never lost hope.”

Neither had Nelle nor Vanya, yet it aided their pipe dream of their brother’s return with nothing but recurrences of that very same, old pipe dream.

Voicing Nelle’s own thoughts, Vanya raised her brows. “And look where that got him.”

* * *

Now seated by the communal hearth, each sibling had allocated a separate seat for themselves on pure instinct; Vanya had scootched herself into the corner of pillows on the sofa nearest to the bar behind, Allison was nearest to her on an awkwardly-backed armchair, joined underneath the mounted head of an African antelope by Diego on her right who was much more transfixed on the flames of the fire as he leaned back into a more cushioned armchair, Luther (an intimidating wall of a person with his thick layers of muscle hidden away under layers of an overcoat, gloves and sweater) took the middle of the sofa opposite Vanya, but had at least the sheepishness to perch on the very edge rather than claim the piece of furniture as part of himself, and Nelle sat on her hands upon the intricately carved stone stool positioned crudely on the bear-skin rug.

It was quiet and still, the gathered siblings unmoving save for Allison taking a languid swig from her cup of dark orange liquid courage and Klaus (a scruffy-looking, eyeliner-wearing diva, if one was to ask any of his siblings, complete with a sassy attitude and a flirty take on any situation) rummaging noisily behind the bar.

“Um...” Luther rumbled, pushing his massive stature to standing upright from off the sofa. “I guess we should get this started.” The seated siblings were vaguely focused on him, gazes flicking upwards briefly. “So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service. In the courtyard at sundown.” Despite the many years since he had been their designated and literal ‘Number 1’, his posture still knew that commanding pose and his voice carried in just the right volume for the tone of severity the situation required. “Say a few words, just at Dad’s favourite spot.”

Before everyone else’s confusion and meagre surprise could manifest itself in their expressions, Allison questioned it. “Dad had a favourite spot?”

“You know, under the oak tree.” The way Luther replied made it seem as though he was trying to revive some forgotten, private memories between himself and his sister. She was consumed by a distant thought, glancing away.

“We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?” A lost-puppy gleam glistened in the big man’s round eyes, brows furrowed.

Sweeping his way over with wisping curls of smoke from his accessorised cigarette, Klaus was quick to ask the ‘important’ question. “Will there be refreshments?” Even though he held a remarkably full glass of something from an expensive year. “Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner.” He spread his trade-mark infectious grin among each of his dispersed siblings’ directions. They had been vaccinated against it long ago.

Luther did a double-take at both the interruption and offending accessory to his effeminate and shirtless outfit. “W-what? No. And put that out. Dad didn’t allow smoking in here.”

Allison was more concerned with the rest of his ensemble, arm slinging over accusingly on the arm of her chair. “Is that my skirt?”

“What?” Turning around with an innocent visage, cigarette hanging out from his lips, Klaus faced his accuser with a beam. “Oh, yeah, this. I found it in your room.” His audacity would never cease to amaze, but Nelle couldn’t help thinking to herself that it suited him rather well. “It’s a little dated, I know, but it’s very breathy on the bits.” Cigarette now in hand, he gestured down to his crotch with a proud flourish.

“Listen up. Still some important things that we need to discuss, alright?” Luther allowed no time to pass, hasty to return the focus back to the late Hargreeves.

Diego, ever the feather-ruffled Number 2, piped up with his usual air of arrogance and challenge. “Like what?”

As if it were obvious, Luther turned to him and stated it as if it were the very nose on his face. “Like the way he died.”

As though it were a well-oiled machine-action between the two brothers, Diego’s head fell down as he graced his field of vision with his shoes. “And here we go.”

“I don’t understand.” Nelle chimed in with her small voice, still seated on her hands to buffer against the stiff stone beneath her.

Vanya nodded, shifting in her much plusher seat, although she looked as if she felt more uncomfortable than her sister. “Yeah, I thought they said it was a heart attack.” Midway through her sentence, Klaus had made himself at home on the cushion next to his sister, lounging back care-freely with his paired cigarette and poison of choice.

Blinking painfully, Luther continued to act as though their father’s murder was all a big game of CLUEDO they had to solve only for him to turn up alive at the end of the game to comment how slow and inefficient they were at solving it. “Yeah, according to the coroner.”

“Well, wouldn’t they know?”

“Theoretically.”

“Theoretically?”

Nelle watched as Allison and Vanya played ping-pong between their brother’s ludicrous insinuations that their father’s death was a much grander scheme than it appeared, anything more than just what it was. Reginald Hargreeves was dead. And when such men as Reginald Hargreeves die, it’s always the simplest answer. They make no riddles in their most honourable of duties.

“I’m just saying, at the very least, something happened. The last time that I talked to Dad, he sounded strange.”

“Oh, quelle surprise!” Gurgled the full mouth of their skirt-wearing brother.

Vanya looked past him to Nelle with a taut shock at the disturbed solemn mood, eyes wide and unsure whether to giggle at his antics to lighten the atmosphere or cough to try and cover it up for his own sake against the mounting frustration of their other brother.

“Strange how?” Allison swiftly moved things along, ignoring Klaus. Or at least trying her best to. They all tried their best to.

“He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust.”

Diego stood up at that, craning his head towards him defiantly as he did so. “Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles.” His tone was demeaning as he walked towards him, as though trying to prove to a child that Santa Claus didn’t exist when he’d spent every Christmas eve awake until dawn trying to catch a glimpse of him.

“No. He must have known something was going to happen.” The sureness in his voice and the height difference halted any rebuttal from Diego. He turned to Klaus. “Look, I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad.”

Nelle chewed on her lip, Allison scoffed, and Vanya twiddled her thumbs.

Klaus writhed with all the seething pain of a bodily third-degree burn, leaning himself forward as he clutched a little tighter to his handful of vices. “I can’t just call Dad in the afterlife and be like, ‘Dad, could you just…stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?’” He mimicked a phone with his cigarette.

“Since when? That’s your thing.” Luther laid it out like renewed concrete on the pavement.

“I’m not in the right… frame of mind!”

“You’re high?” Allison inculpated.

Chittering to himself, a pleased smile on his face, he nodded around the room. “Yeah! Yeah! I mean, how are you not, listening to this nonsense?” There was a note of genuine incredulity in his voice.

“Well, sober up. This is important.” Luther’s brashness was too similar to their late father’s. Nelle cringed, moving her arms to wrap around herself as her stomach clenched unpleasantly.

As Klaus slumped with an eye-roll, Luther ploughed ahead. Nelle didn’t catch the first part of it as her disgruntled brother had taken to mouthing along to their Luther’s words, making bizarre faces complete with dramatic hand movements which succeeded too easily in distracting her. She muffled a snort.

“..took it, I think it was personal.”

Nelle managed to decipher from the rudimentary finger circle her brother had pressed over his eye during his mimicry that Luther was referring to their father’s monocle.

“Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge.”

“Where are you going with this?” Klaus prompted, face the colour of pure perplexity now he’d tuned back in.

Though Diego was talking at Klaus, he was turned towards his other brother. “Oh, isn’t it obvious, Klaus? He thinks one of us killed Dad.”

The soft grunt he gave confirmed his suspicions for everyone. Each of the Hargreeves fixed him with an open mouth of upset at his indirect blame. Nelle gasped quick and short, feeling that old bubble from childhood work its way up her throat in the tell-tale shape of a sob. She swallowed it back down before it could break free, dabbing at her eyes hurriedly. After all that practice and encouragement to bite back at the tears that fell in silence against the arguments and teases of her siblings, it fell away like a fence of twigs in a flood.

Number 8 had been known for those episodes as they were growing up together. Not being as talkative as some of the other numbers of her siblings, she was often drowned out and when she did voice her opinion on anything, it was usually ‘wrong’ or challenged. She didn’t argue back, she didn’t push or shove, nor use her powers out of anger. Nelle always stood there in silence as they would yell or bully or prod or jostle. And she cried. Not big breathless fish-gasping sobs or moans, no whining for their mother or father, just streams of tears that dripped down her cheeks and dampened her collar and splashed off of the toes of her shoes. The blonde, little girl never ran off crying either. She knew her own mind and what was needed, and she would always stand her ground. She lacked the knowledge or confidence on how to speak up and stand up for herself otherwise.

It was noticeable on more than just the occasions of her tears. One of her siblings may insist their fall down the stairs had done nothing to injure them and she would help them along to their mother without hesitation, even if they kicked and screamed in protest. She would risk breaking the rules of bedtime to read to her siblings if they were suffering from a nightmare or a recent bad mission. She’d even stood beside a disobedient sibling if their father was reprimanding them and receive punishment for taking their side. It was clear she had a heart, but it was often wondered whether she had a brain.

No defence, but her tears.

“You do?!” Klaus’s high-pitched surprise startled Nelle from her welling tears and back to the situation at hand.

“How could you think that?” Vanya had never talked back to any of her siblings in such a way, but none of them questioned it. They each shared her disturbance.

Luther looked mortified with remorse. There was no way of telling whether it was for having his inner thoughts and suspicions out there against his will or if it was for even considering placing the blame on any of his siblings.

“Great job, Luther. Way to lead.” Diego took on the role of his smug conscience before abandoning ship and brushing straight past him.

“That’s not what I’m saying-“

“You’re crazy, man. You’re crazy.” Klaus was the next to stand. “Crazy..”

Luther seemed to think he still had some control over his siblings, trying to reign them all back in. “I’ve not finished.”

“Okay, well sorry, I’m just gonna go murder Mom. Be right back.” A trophy in hand along with his other ‘necessities’, Klaus took his leave.

“That’s not what I was saying...”

Vanya followed behind him to the exit before going down a separate corridor.

“I didn’t-“

Nelle, still trembling with that fighting urge at the back of her eyes, almost knocked the stool over as she sped out of the room. Allison took her now empty glass and followed suit with the rest of her siblings.

“Allison. Jeez…” Now only one living Hargreeves stood in the room, huffing a heavy sigh from his great lungs. “That went well.”

* * *

**15th March 2002 –**

_17 years ago_

_The building was obviously a bank. The typical, bog-standard bank carved and built from limestone, standing at an unnecessarily impressive height and greeting its loyal cardholders with four scalloped pillars from the kind of staircase that would actually suit a stain as it was painfully spotless. And its grand stature screamed ‘opportunity’ as a target for some thugs hoping to make a quick break-in, taking hostages if necessary and then leaving with their cash in tow. Unfortunately for them, a certain 7 children in black domino masks and navy blazers had been unleashed from their academy that very same day._

_“Hey, get them behind the counter!” Over the blaring alarm warning anyone who wasn’t aware (although it would have been quite impossible to not have a ring in one’s ears with how loud and obnoxious it was), a burly man with a shaved head and long coat over a pinstriped suit strode into the main hall of the bank, shouting into a radio pressed up against his left ear. But he wasn’t talking to the radio alone. His initial demand had been directed at the group of similarly attired men, each holding a gun as he did in his right hand._

_As the men obeyed, ushering and dragging along the frightened, gagged huddle of civilians and bank-workers round behind the counter as instructed, the burly man resumed conversation with the other end of his radio. “Now you’ve put me in a position where I gotta do something I don’t want to do. Hmm?”_

_There were a few stragglers to the ushered group, but the armed thug simply pushed them up against one of the other walls whilst their leader removed the radio suddenly from his ear, cursing angrily._

_“Shit!” He turned only to find a young, dark-haired girl, a skip in her step and hands held behind her back as she greeted the man with a blank face. He frowned, gesturing with his gun towards the group of hostages. “Hey, get back with the others!”_

_She dipped her head down, speaking clearly enough for him to hear her over the ruckus behind them. “I heard a rumour.”_

_Confused and nearing the end of his tether, he leaned himself closer to her, almost transfixed. “What? What did you say?”_

_A smirk stretched across her face that was an unmistakeable universal sign for ‘I know everyone’s darkest secret’. She met him the rest of the way, inclining her mouth closer to his ear as her hand cupped her cheek. “ **I heard a rumour** that you shot your friend in the foot.”_

_Slowly, he leaned back, eyes swirling with a white, milky appearance before he cocked his gun and aimed it straight at the foot of one of his approaching comrades who was evidently confused by his apparent ‘friend’ aiming a gun on him._

_“Hey, dude. What the hel- AH!” He cut himself off with an agonised groan as the gun fired and the shot rang out, bullet straight through the shoe, muscle and bone of his right foot. His hand tensed and his fingers squeezed the trigger of his own gun as he slipped, bullets hitting the glass near the smaller group of hostages whilst falling to the ground, clutching his leg._

_The burly man stared at his gun with uncertainty, glancing back to his injured ‘friend’ when the ceiling glass smashed from above._

_Down came a relatively large foreign object, but all things considered, the blond boy was actually just above average height for his age. The man he’d landed on was dealt several impressively strong blows before being flung out through one of the front windows. Finally, some stains to tarnish those glaring stairs._

_With one of the men charging in as back-up upon hearing the commotion, another masked girl stood right in his path. He skidded to a halt as she just stared up at him and scoffed, raising his gun up to deck her across the face with it only for her to catch his wrist before he could even try it. As he struggled, she smiled, blocking his knee as he tried to kick at her and his free hand as he went for a punch. He pulled free of her with a grunt and went to fire his gun only to hear it clicking as empty. The blonde-bobbed girl held up the cartridge he was rapidly searching for and shrugged. “I saw it coming.” As he leaned forwards to snatch the cartridge back, her palm struck at his throat and he stumbled back against the wall, choking and winded._

_From the other end of the main hall, another boy came running, equipped not only with the other children’s domino masks and uniform, but two knives that he threw after his entering catch-phrase of the day: “Guns are for sissies. Real men throw knives!” They seemed to hurtle in a bee-line straight for the man still standing beside the dark-haired girl, only to change direction last-minute and pierce themselves into the chest of the armed thug still recovering against the wall. Shame he had to ruin that freshly dry-cleaned suit of his, at least he wouldn’t be needing it anymore anyway._

_Deciding that the situation was escalating a little more than he had planned for, the remaining man climbed up onto the counter, gun trained on the group of masked children as he edged his way back, catching on to the fact that these weren’t just meddling school-kids who’d snuck away from their group. “Get back, you freaks!”_

_“Hey, be careful up there, buddy.”_

_“Yeah, wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” They taunted._

_“Get back, now!” He insisted, tightening his grip on the gun when an ear-popping ‘fwoom’ sounded behind him, accompanied with a brief flash of blue._

_“Or what?” The figure that emerged from the flash sat cross-legged on the counter, waiting for the man to turn and fire a few shots in his direction before using the same technique to disappear and reappear on the other side of him. With the masked boy’s arms crossed, he simply stood as the man clicked a stapler in his direction. His gaze shifted down to it in mild amusement. “Ooh, that’s one badass stapler!” He nodded in admiration prior to taking his wrist and smacking the stapler against his forehead, knocking him out as he collapsed to the floor._

_The group of children amassed themselves together outside the glass doors that led to the nitty gritty part of the bank and their mission. They were huddled around one of the masked boys that had yet to partake in any of the violence. He seemed unsure and nervous, feet scuffing together as his shoulders hunched._

_“Do we really have to do this?” He squeaked._

_The blond boy was tired with this constant argument, shaking his head. “Come on, Ben. There’s more guys in the vault.”_

_The boy sighed, head sagging as he reluctantly pulled open the door to let himself in, mumbling under his breath. “I didn’t sign up for this…”_

_“Klaus, are you still not done with those bindings?” The blond boy turned his disapproval to another masked, curly-haired boy who was fiddling with some of the ties around the ankles of hostages._

_“Hey, these knots are, like, really hard! Hehe…that’s what she said..” The boy chuckled to himself, proud of his own private joke._

_The knife-throwing boy grew impatient, however, moving over with his signature weapons in hand. “Oh, just let me do it!”_

_“Oh, I got it! You’re free, everyone! Go be free out the door, now, ya hear?” He took a bow before gesturing them to the exit, all of them running out at once in a screaming, panicked horde._

_The rest of the group’s eyes turned to him in silence._

_“What?”_

_But despite the eye-rolling antics of this mission’s ‘side-lined’ player, the raucous destruction occurring beyond the glass doors inside the vault commanded more attention. Beastly screeches drowned out the forgotten alarm as did the terrified wails and cries of the men inside as a silhouetted mass of tendrils splattered blood and body parts all over the place. After the screams died down, so did the inhuman roars and growls until silence fell and the door slid open to reveal a very bloody, very unhappy young boy._

_A death-rattled sigh sounded through his nose as he trembled, looking at the group of much cleaner children both with annoyance and envy. “Can we go home now?”_

_They wasted no time in rushing outside together, arranging themselves in their natural numbered order. It wasn’t long before their patriarch descended, quick to clothe each masked child in a coat and scarf as they stood as the muses for the countless shuttering cameras._

_“Our world is changing.” The monocled, moustached Hargreeves announced before the public. “Has changed. There are some among us gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary. I have adopted 7 such children. I give you the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy.”_

_“Mr Hargreeves!”_

_“Mr Hargreeves, Channel 9 News; what happened to their parents?”_

_“They were suitably compensated.”_

_“Are you concerned about the welfare of the children?”_

_“Of course. As I am for the fate of the world.”_

* * *

There was an empty hollow that had gaped open and scattered the Hargreeves siblings to their own desired location of retreat. It was too stifling and tense to be within reach of each other at that moment, the wounds their old leader had scratched into them still stung and itched. It was no question that they all had their own personal reasons to hate their father in one way or the other, and not just the standard ‘daddy issues’ of a distant parent; he had caused them pain and struggle in every way, from being taught the impossible grammar and language of ancient Greek to being locked in a mausoleum for hours on end. But it had been too many years since they’d all left, any grudges they still held would never amount to murder. There was simple no rhyme or reason for it when it would change nothing. He was dead, but he had still lived.

Nelle had managed to hurry herself away to the downstairs bathroom in time, having locked the door only to find that her hands were already spotted with droplets from her streaming eyes. It had been a long time since she’d last cried, even longer since she’d seen herself in the mirror as she did so. It wasn’t a pretty sight. About as attractive as a naked mole rat suffering from a fungal infection. In fact, she was probably a worse sight with the constant snail-trails of tears sliding down. As a few seeped into her mouth from the seam of her lips, she spluttered, wiping them away haphazardly. She’d forgotten that tang of saltiness. Her torrential crying had put her off the flavour completely. Nelle much preferred the sweeter side of things.

On her sixth wad of toilet-roll tissues, the tears still hadn’t dried up or slowed down, they just kept running down her face like the eroded cliff behind a waterfall. She sniffled weakly, shaking her head to herself as she recalled the technique her mother had favoured in teaching her; smile. And she tried to, moving the corners of her mouth back into her cheeks as the round globules dripped down from her chin. Nelle felt like a clown at a toddler’s birthday party after being kicked twice too many times in the shins. She looked like one too.

Sighing out with all the air from deflating balloons, she sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, head in her hands as she tugged at her ponytail.

And then a beat started. It could have just been the plumbing rattling away or Luther walking too heavily on his feet, but it almost sounded like music. As it deepened, she began to feel the bass thrumming through the ceiling, the guitar jolting the mirror rhythmically and the drums enticing her foot to start tapping against the tiled floor. It was muffled and muted through the walls and insulation, but the tune would always be a banger at any volume.

Like chemical electricity, it ignited the veins of the separated Hargreeves; a knife lodged itself in the head of a wildebeest, a feather boa was plucked up and twirled with and the very ashes of their late father were cradled and held close like the most intimate of dance partners.

Behind closed doors in the privacy of themselves, a series of ridiculously mismatched dance moves ensued. Knees bent, elbows jerked, and heads bopped with all the frenzy of the final ball in a Vegas pinball machine. Together they would have looked a hot mess, but on their own, dancing to the same song blaring overhead, it all felt harmonious. Even as an overly enthusiastic punch broke a hanging plane model.

_‘I think we're alone now,  
There doesn't seem to be anyone around_

_I think we're alone now,  
The beating of our hearts is the only sound’_

The greatest performances always lacked an audience and none of them held back from the irresistible spins, body rolls and even the running mans. It was quite a fantastic sight to behold just one of the Hargreeves siblings dancing like a crazed maniac, but people mourned in different ways. The Hargreeves apparently mourned with a jive in their limbs along to Tiffany’s greatest hits.

_‘I think we're alone now,  
There doesn't seem to be anyone around_

_I think we're alone now,_   
_The beating of our hearts is the only sou-’_

At the end of the third chorus (which was actually part of the second, but the entire song was an 85% a reprise of the same four line phrase), the music was cut off without warning and the crashing sound of thunder rocketed through the house unexpectedly, flickering and dimming all the lights as anything metal flew across the room at high-speed. Nelle ducked as the loose screws on the mirror went hurtling just past her head from where she had been boogying not five seconds ago.

Instinctively, all 6 siblings congregated downstairs at the far hall where the metal doors led outside into the garden courtyard. The wind was wild and untamed as it whipped up dead leaves and old mulch, all circulating around a huge, pulsating orb of glowing blue. The air around it was frayed and hazy, being sucked in and out of the hole that stretched open to a place that wasn’t there. It frazzled there in suspension, just to the left of the old gazebo.

“Woah...” Diego came to a stop as he and Vanya arrived first on the disturbing scene, staring up in awe and confusion at the paranormal sight.

“What is it?!” Vanya yelled over the strange commotion.

Allison caught Nelle’s arm as she rushed out, pulling her back. “Don’t get too close!”

“Yeah, no shit!” Diego would have rolled his eyes, but the bizarre occurrence didn’t let him look away just yet.

“Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly.” Luther stated, apparently their designated expert for such happenings. “Either that or a miniature black hole, one of the two.”

“Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan.”

Klaus erupted from the doors, a fire extinguisher his chosen weapon. “Out of the way!” He forced his way straight through the shouldered brothers, taking charge as he took his aim.

“What are you-?”

After a quick spray of the fire safety equipment made no difference, Klaus made the drastic choice to fling it straight into the rift. It was sucked away in a mere blink.

“What is that gonna do?” Allison questioned.

Giving an emphatic shrug and brandish of defeat with his hands, Klaus shouted back to her. “I don’t know. Do you have a better idea?” He darted back behind the cover of the rest of his siblings as the rift gave an uneasy crackle.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Everyone get behind me!” Luther pulled his brother further behind him.

“Yeah, get behind us!” Diego corrected, ushering Vanya to tuck herself in further for her own safety.

Klaus took hold of Nelle’s hand. “I vote for running, c’mon!” He started off with a few emergency steps, but his sister didn’t yield to it. She was transfixed by the blue glow and how eerily familiar it looked, how it reminded her of-

“Wait, in the rift! There’s someone coming through!” Her hand squeezed around her brother’s as she peered over Allison’s shoulder to get a better look.

And like a chunk of hail, down dropped a body. But it was alive. It moved itself up from its uncomfortable landing on the dirt and grass, trying to steady itself as it shuffled upright to standing.

As daylight and less extreme weather resumed, the group moved closer to inspect the individual that had dropped out of nowhere. Their eyes widened and their mouths fell open as Klaus acted as narrator.

“Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?” His hand slid out of Nelle’s as he ran it over his face and forehead, trying to comprehend this particular conjuring of his most recent high.

Nelle’s mouth shut instantly, her teeth clacking together at such a rapid motion. The natterjack was back in her stomach, but rather than flipping all over the place, it too was eager to inspect this impossible sight, burning a hole right through her muscle and skin.

The boy was indeed the very same long-lost Hargreeves. He hadn’t seemed to age a day. At all! Still 13 years old. He hadn’t even looked remotely surprised to see any of them until Klaus’s words hit him and he glanced down at himself and the rather baggy suit that hung off of him like a wet trash bag.

“Shit.”


	3. Chapter 2: Fully Dressed in Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the return of the long-lost Hargreeves brother and a bottle of tensions now shaken up with fizzing bubbles, things come to an ugly head during the final farewell to their late father.
> 
> Answers only raise more questions, reunions remain bittersweet and it could be the end of the world as they know it.
> 
> Confusion, loyalty and now an impending apocalypse stack up for a mental war.

**24 th March 2019 (still) –**

Now inside again, all huddled on one side of the dining table, the rest of the Hargreeves watched in stunned silence as their younger-looking brother waltzed through the kitchen as if he’d been there yesterday, setting down a bread board and knife before retrieving a wrapped loaf of bread from the shelves.

“What’s the date? The exact date.” Five specified as he walked back and forth.

“The 24th.” Vanya answered.

“Of what?”

“March.” Nelle filled in, her voice muted and empty. It must have been sucked away along with that fire extinguisher.

Five seemed to think on it for a few seconds before nodding to himself. “Good.” His face didn’t exactly read the situation as ‘good’, however. Perhaps, mildly manageable.

Luther cleared his throat, his large arm that rested on the table dwarfing Vanya’s as she sat in the same position across from him. “So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?”

Their brother seemed more preoccupied with laying out two slices of the white loaf on the board. Allison tilted her head back, gaze moving upwards as if there would be help up there. Klaus itched at his neck and looked down at Vanya who was watching the bread Five was tending to in a state of neutral dumbfoundness. Nelle switched from picking her lip to chewing on her thumbnail. Diego leaned further into his forearm-propped position.

Luther stood in frustration at his brother’s lack of response. “It’s been 17 years.”

Five stiffened but raised his head to stare dead at him with a little scoff. “It’s been a lot longer than that.” He then moved as if to walk through him and reappeared on the other side of the wall of man to collect packets of marshmallows.

“I haven’t missed that..” Luther grumbled.

“Where’d you go?” Diego moved to sit on the corner of the table, folding his arms.

“The future.” Five announced, blinking back to where he had previously been setting up his slices of bread. “It’s shit, by the way.”

Klaus stuck his finger in the air. “Called it!” He then seemed to think better of it and moved it to scratch behind his ear.

Five was still focused on more important matters. “I should’ve listened to the old man.” He walked over to the fridge this time, opening it up to search around inside. “You know, jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” He took his place by the board again, equipped with a fresh jar of peanut butter. The boy glanced up to examine his siblings’ reactions before returning to his sandwich task. “Nice dress.”

Not that he was the type to blush, but Klaus seemed flattered nonetheless, whipping the tassels enthusiastically. “Oh, well, _danke!”_ It must have been a language bingo day.

Vanya looked over to Nelle and saw the worry and rampant thoughts in her glistening blue eyes that had reverted back to the ones of a little girl. She turned to Five with a question. “Wait, how did you get back?”

Still preparing his favourite snack, the boy didn’t even look up as he explained himself with all the patient pacing of a cocky Physics professor. “In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time.”

As their brains struggled to keep up with just the words in that sentence, not a single Hargreeves wore a mask of understanding.

Diego thought it didn’t matter and was quick to call him out for ‘bullshit’. “That makes no sense.”

Not even gracing his ignorance with a look of acknowledgement, Five retorted. “Well, it would if you were smarter.”

Luther stopped his brother as he stood up with too menacing a hold on one of his knives. “How long were you there?” Diego still held a wild look in his eyes. There were rarely any survivors from those who insulted him.

Five brushed it off as if he never would have laid a hand on him anyway. “45 years. Give or take.” He shrugged it off, but his trailing voice suggested he wasn’t at all pleased with the quantitative summation of his long period of absence. Nelle had caught her breath at that, feeling her teeth snap part of her nail off as she tensed at the realisation. The natterjack was awake and hopping mad as it infiltrated her every fibre with guilt. Blame. It was her fault and nobody else even knew it.

Once again shocked into a state of awe and rapt attention, the standing brothers sunk back into their seats.

“So, what are you saying? That you’re 58?”

Clearly irritated, the boy faced him with a weary-eyed stare. “No, my consciousness is 58.” He then completed his sandwich with the other slice of bread on top. “Apparently, my body is now 13 again.”

“Wait, how does that even work?” Vanya was still rapidly trying to keep up with his logic and ‘simple-science’.

Five walked a pace away from the table with his back to them, sandwich in hand and hand in pocket as he mused to himself. “Delores kept saying the equations were off.” He didn’t think on it for long, taking a hefty bite from his snack as he walked back round to the table. “Bet she’s laughing now.”

“Delores?” Both Vanya and Nelle chimed in together, both hopeful that he hadn’t truly been all by himself during those 45 years in the ‘shit’ future. And there was a strange familiarity to the old-fashioned name that Nelle couldn’t quite place..

“Hmm. Guess I missed the funeral.” Five ignored the question in favour of picking up the newspaper near him and glancing over the grim photo of their late father.

“How’d you know about that?” Luther pressed.

“What part of the future do you not understand?” Five raised his brows like a concerned parent whose child had just informed them that 2+2 equalled anything but 4. Luther’s face shrunk back in as though he actually had. “Heart failure, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

Both Diego and Luther disagreed at once. “Hmm. Nice to see nothing’s changed.” The boy clicked his tongue, taking his sandwich with him as he strolled past the table and exited down and out through the hall.

“Uh, that’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Allison didn’t let him go so easily, almost ready to walk right out after him.

“What else is there to say? The circle of life.” And he was gone.

With a renewed awkwardness and silence distilling in the stagnant, peanut-wafting air, the remaining siblings looked among each other for an answer or comment or something. But they knew just as little on what to do in this situation as the common John out on the street. Unless the certain common John they’d been fortunate enough to select was in fact an expert on quantum mechanics and was even in the process of building their own time machine. But what were the odds of that?

“Well…that was interesting.” Luther popped the bubble.

“Yeah, interesting to see that 45 years have done nothing to change his cocky ‘little-prick’ attitude.” Diego examined his reflection in one of his knives.

“Hey, he’s an old man. Grandpa probably just needs some space, that’s all-“

“Did he really have nothing else to say? If the future’s so bad, he couldn’t at least tell us about it?” Allison cut off Klaus’ teasing.

Nelle had plenty of questions of her own all running amok in the cramped space of her mind, but none of which were up for family discussion. She needed to talk to Five alone. So she quietly slipped away as they ruminated amongst themselves, following after him and using the few breadcrumbs he’d left in his wake as a literal trail until she caught sight of him climbing up the main stairs, rubbing his now empty hands together.

She’d forgotten what the back of him had looked like, the slope of his shoulders beneath a blazer and collar, the tuft of dark hair that he always complained needed trimming despite their designated ‘haircut’ just the week before. Even through his ill-fitted slacks, she could make out the thin shape of his boyishly-twiggy legs climbing up the stairs. But there was a foreign hunch in his back as he walked, as though he really were a 58-year-old man struggling his way up, using his hand to occasionally brace his weight on a knee. A stone bounced in her throat, trying to decide which way to roll.

Her voice slithered around it as she called up to him. “Five.”

Curiously, the boy had come to a slowed stop on the stairs, his head swivelling around to match the face he’d feared he would never find to the siren’s call of her voice he had been sorely without in all those years away. That mask of an old grouch he’d worn ever since he’d dropped down from the sky ripped open in fissures, like tissue paper in the rain. His green eyes sparkled with the buried youth of his 13-year-old self, when he was just a brother; when he was just a boy. He hadn’t any wrinkles on his younger skin, but the deep creases and shadows melted away as he gave a breathless laugh, the corners of his mouth turning up just slightly.

“Hello, Nelle.”

That name, that name she didn’t deserve, but the way he’d said it made it a warm blanket in an arctic tent. The natterjack had left and in its place, her heart fluttered into a million individual butterflies, nudging gently against her lungs, guiding her forwards up the stairs towards her brother. It felt good to call him that again, to know that they would always be Hargreeves, no matter how many years they lived.

Nelle took two steps at a time to be nearer to him, to check it wasn’t that old pipe dream she and Vanya spent too many nights wishing upon, that when she reached out to him, he wouldn’t vanish into thin air or be sucked away into that blue rift across time. There were too many things she needed to say, to explain, to apologise for. But still, even if he really was here, how could she? She’d ruined his life, doomed him to a future he didn’t ever choose for himself and she never even _saw_ it. And she could have stopped it if she hadn’t always been so useless!

Freezing up at the last four steps, Nelle’s blue eyes dropped down shamefully to her feet. She felt like a 13-year-old girl in a 30-year-old body. Her fingers tightened around the handrail and she bit down on her tongue to cork the outpour of everything she’d waited so long to blurt out to him. It was too late. It was always too late, the worst type of cruel irony for someone deemed to be clairvoyant.

Five frowned to himself as she halted and headed down the last few steps to complete the distance still between them only to trip up on the edge of his pant leg, catching it underfoot. Nelle gasped sharply as her hands shot out to steady him before he’d even fallen. Her brother was chuckling in relief, bringing himself back to balance.

“Good to see that hasn’t changed either. Thanks.”

His sister gave a shiver from the after-shock of it, Five not reacting at all as he was well aware of the effect her own powers had on her. But when she simply stood there, hands still outstretched and breath still panting, he rested a hand on her shoulder. He would have made a comment on how much bone he could feel even through her sweater, but he sensed something more pressing was eating away at her.

“Nelle?”

Sucking in a quick inhale, the blonde woman looked down at him, unused to actually standing taller than him for once. He’d always been taller. It only took 45 years..

“I’m- it can wait.” It had waited long enough. “We should find you some proper clothes before you break your neck.” She glanced down at his attire. It was still waiting.

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly.”

* * *

With the lack of children running around the old corridors of the Umbrella Academy’s mansion, there was a distinct scarcity of children’s clothing. Nelle found nothing in her bedroom, but closed windows and notes in Vanya’s handwriting, crumpled up and shoved behind the headboard of her bed and the wall to keep their secret conversations hidden. She didn’t want to linger too long in the hollow space. The years of her own age and the person she was today was no longer the little girl who had slept in this bedroom. To respect her privacy, she shut the door on her way out.

Nelle could hear Five rummaging in his own bedroom drawers and peered in to check on his progress. From the infrequent ‘damn it’s and muttered curses, she could guess it wasn’t going well and he too had yielded _nada_. She knocked on the ajar door, waiting for his permission before entering and proceeding towards his wardrobe, opening the doors. There was no dust here either, indicating that their mother must have indeed stuck to the same rigorous cleaning schedule to keep everything so spotless and tidy. And the neatly hung uniforms within were just as neatly attended to, sporting the complacent colours of their childhood vocation. She sighed to herself as she leaned in to check the sizes on the labels, holding one up against herself before hanging it back on the rack.

“Um, Five?”

Walking over, the boy inspected the contents for himself. Nelle moved aside with a soft sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose in dread as he reached in to browse the identical blazers.

“Ah, shit.” He groaned nasally before unhooking one and checking it over. “Dad sure loved his memorabilia.” He laid it out across his pristine bed covers, loosening his tie and yanking it free before shrugging out of his large jacket that un-swallowed him to reveal the lanky figure underneath, still dwarfed by a white button-up he was already undoing.

Nelle blinked in surprise, clearing her throat as she moved to the door, fingers curling around the handle on her way out to let him change in peace. He was probably so used to changing without prying eyes that he hadn’t even thought to warn her. “I’ll be outside.”

The blonde woman sunk back against the door as it clicked shut, holding her forehead as she shifted herself back onto the balls of her feet and roamed up and down the worn carpet of the wooden corridors. Had they always been that long and daunting? Either end seemed an entire country away from the other. No wonder their father had used it as their regular running track. But Nelle felt like even though she was now a 30-year-old, grown woman, she had actually diminished in person. There was less of her to fill up the gaping space she no longer recognised.

And in turn, how did any of her siblings even recognise her? Especially Five.

When he’d left, she’d been his sister, a little girl with a bouncing blonde bob and glowing blue eyes. She had cried when she’d lost her first tooth and named each tissue she’d used to dry her eyes. She’d been a sweet, innocent child, just a young girl and he had stood up for her. He stood up for that little girl. He’d looked at her as though she were the most precious thing he’d ever find and he sought to help her to protect herself too, to reassure her of her own hidden worth that he believed in so strongly. He was more than a brother; he was a friend. Anyone could make her cry, but Five made her laugh. And that was special.

Nelle thought of meeting him downstairs instead, but her feet glued to the spot as the door unlocked and out came the final wave of nostalgia to knock her flat on her ass (thankfully it didn’t quite manage to in the literal sense). Five stood head-to-toe in their old uniform, from the black brogues and knee-high socks to the black tie nestled beneath the vested sweater. The only thing that was missing was the mask, but Nelle was glad he was without it. She wanted to see his face in more than the same oil portrait.

“How do I look?” He gave an adjusting tighten to his tie.

She nodded, licking her sore lips. “Perfect for Dad’s funeral.”

“I didn’t manage to miss that?” Five raised a brow, scoffing to himself and murmuring something again about that ‘Delores’ he’d mentioned earlier.

Nelle scrutinised the gleaming smear of peanut butter on the side of his cheek and she tutted to herself like a fussy aunt, fetching the constant companion of her handkerchief from her front pocket before dabbing it away, noting the blinking flinch he gave at the contact. She tried not to think on it too much.

“Come on.”

* * *

Downstairs again, Nelle excused herself to fetch a glass of water as Five found himself lured to his painted likeness. He tilted his head to the side, wondering if his jaw had always looked like that, measuring it on his own 13-again face with his hand under his chin. He shook his head, pocketing it along with the other as he examined the eyes instead. They were always telling about a person, but in this particular portrait, they may as well have been left out completely. It was as interesting to look at as a stock photo for a can of unbranded soup as a result of trademark issues. He scoffed to himself, turning as he heard footsteps approaching and assuming it was Nelle.

“Nice to know Dad didn’t forget about me.” Five’s green gaze adjusted itself to Vanya, nodding his head in greeting. “Read your book, by the way. Found it in a library that was still standing.” He built the image for her with his eyes as they moved up to draw it forth from his memory. His other sister stood in silence still and he walked round, familiarising himself with the room again as he wondered where Nelle had got to with that water, if perhaps it was just a simple escape. He cleared the thought aside for later. “Thought it was pretty good, all things considered. Yeah, definitely ballsy giving up the family secrets.” The boy studied over her expression. “Sure that went over well.”

“They hate me.” She stated plainly, every ounce of her belief in those words.

“Oh, there are worse things that can happen.” It was still his young voice, but he sounded so wise with experience and that strong sense of ‘knowing’ he carried through with his sentences.

“You mean like what happened to Ben?”

Not knowing how to comment on the death and funeral he’d missed out on, Five was quiet and still for a few beats, holding her eye. “Was it bad?”

Vanya nodded solemnly. Words couldn’t explain the trauma of losing Ben. It would never be enough to justify his untimely demise.

Five allowed her mercy as he broke the stare and glanced away respectfully just as Nelle walked in, no glass in hand. “We’re starting now.”

* * *

Now 7 Hargreeves strong, the siblings joined their mother and Pogo back outside in the courtyard garden. With Ben’s statue still standing, as polished and shiny as the day it had been erected on his grave, it was almost a full reunion. The sun didn’t shine on this one, however, it poured with drizzly rain from a grey sky, setting the mood for such a miserable event.

The bright smile of their mother was perhaps the most out of place of everything, trumping even the hot-pink rim of Klaus’ parasol. Her round eyes matched the cute, doting expression. “Did something happen?”

All eyes shifted to ascertain why she was confused. Surely she had been the first one on the scene to discover the deceased Hargreeves in his bed? Pogo would have informed her at the very least or even the radio.

“Dad died. Remember?” Allison prompted from beneath her black brolly.

“Oh.” The perfectly blonde woman’s brows relaxed from their keen raised position higher up on her forehead and her red lips downturned too quickly for any natural reflex. “Yes, of course.”

“Is Mom okay?” Allison announced to all of them, but Diego was first to answer.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine.” He excused, squinting through the rain that dripped down his face. The foolish man had opted for a black coat to cope with the weather but left the hood down. “She just needs to rest. You know, recharge.”

Nelle chewed doubtfully on her lower lip, hands gripping the handle of her black umbrella with white-knuckled tension. And then against the side of her trainer, she was certain she had felt it, the soothing, calming motion of another shoe brushing against her foot. She hadn’t felt that sensation for almost 17 years. Her eyes flickered down. Nothing was there now, but Five stood closest to her on that side.

Hobbling over, Pogo joined the gathering beside Vanya, nodding to Luther who bore the urn of ashes in his hold. “Whenever you’re ready, dear boy.”

Nodding, the tall man unlidded the container and gave it a shake as he upturned it. The ashes clumped together unceremoniously on the damp ground. Klaus gave a grimace along with the others’ dismayed reactions.

“Probably would have been better with some wind.” He attempted.

Pogo didn’t seem too limited with the proceedings. “Does anyone wish to speak?”

A pregnant silence descended as no one raised a hand or even opened their mouth (unless it was to take a drag from a cigarette).

Seemingly prepared for this, the chimpanzee carried on. “Very well.” His lips meshed together before he found the right placement for the more polite words of his respected master. “In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master… and my friend, and I shall miss him very much.”

No matter the opinions the others may have wished to voice, they kept their hush as Pogo recounted his own tale. They would never understand and so they didn’t pretend to. They let him speak and have his final farewell to the man that may have been too busy for children, but always made time for his creations.

“He leaves behind a complicated legacy-“

“He was a monster.” Diego’s interruption triggered a scatty laugh from Klaus. “He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.”

“Diego.” Allison tried.

“My name is Number Two.” He countered. “You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had Mom do it.” At that point, Five had found a specific leaf wonderfully fascinating, head lowered. He had kept his number as his name for his own reasons. His shoulders lifted and fell with a deep breath, but he made no noise.

Nelle returned the favour for his earlier ministration, stroking her shoe along the edge of his with just enough pressure for him to glance at her from the corner of his eye.

“Would anyone like something to eat?” Her primary programming kicking in, their ‘mother’ looked around her ‘children’ with a fixed smile.

“No, it’s okay, Mom.” Vanya replied.

Her smile stretching wider, she gave a dip with her head. “Oh. Okay.” Satisfied, she was once again quiet.

“Look, you wanna pay your respects? Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was.” Diego continued his rant.

Luther had had more than enough at that point. “You should stop talking now.”

His brother gave him the side-eye, a snarl under his breath as he faced the only other umbrella-less individual. “You know, you of all people should be on my side here, Number One.” He dragged out the consonants of his true name.

“I am warning you.”

The two brothers were nearing each other more threateningly now and Nelle shivered uncontrollably with the flashes of glimpses into the very near future that attacked her eyes each time she blinked; a thudding punch hard enough to crack ribs, a blade nicking a vein and spilling blood. Her hand gripped onto Five’s shoulder and he whipped his head back to find her rigid posture.

“After everything he did to you? He had to ship you a million miles away.”

“Diego, stop talking.”

Five unpocketed his free hand to rest on hers upon his shoulder, relaxing her clawed grip. “It’s okay. It was coming anyway.” He mumbled to calm her, already knowing what she must have _seen_. And it hadn’t occurred to either of them that Nelle was in fact 30, an adult that didn’t necessarily need to be ‘looked after’, but he knew how fragile she became in that state, he knew the toll it always took on her. There were some things he would never forget.

“That’s how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you!” Diego jabbed a finger right into Luther’s chest to inflict with his words.

His brother had been provoked and dragged his hand away, throwing two nimbly dodged punches. Blows landed and grunts echoed around the courtyard as they tussled on the ground.

“No, no, no…have to stop it, c-can feel it..” Nelle twitched uncomfortably under Five’s hand, her feet edging her forwards as the instinct and split-second knowledge of exactly how and where they’d time each of their offences gnawed at her relentlessly.

“Nelle, stop!” Her brother took a firm hold of her wrist. “Stop.” He looked into her startled eyes, not letting go until her pupils had shrunk back to their normal size again. He checked again to make sure she was over the worst of it and as her hand slackened, he released her.

“Boys, stop this at once!” Pogo yelled over their ruckus.

Klaus had moved over to shield an arm over Five’s little body as the brawl worsened, but the boy seemed disgusted at the thought he would even need protection from the likes of him and deflected his arm easily, backing himself over to shield Nelle instead and hopefully cut off her connection to the current unravelling events.

Diego gave a yell of pain as he suffered a harsher impact from his brother, but he recovered. “Come on, big boy!” He taunted him with the come-hither of his hands that was common among all boxers.

It was enough to get him what he wanted. Luther struck first and provided the opening Diego had enticed as he pounded his chest and punched down on his back repeatedly with the force of his entire body.

“Stop it!” Vanya pleaded.

“Hit him! Hit him!” Klaus had his usual alternative take on the situation, on the verge of clapping excitedly or donning his cheerleading outfit.

Pogo had seen more than he preferred and took his leave with an impatient scoff, turning his back on the pointless fight entirely.

Diego was now on his back, but he scuttled well with his agility and scrambled upright to avoid another of Luther’s heavy thwacks, kneeing up against his abdomen and kicking across his jaw. But his brother retaliated with his endowed strength, thudding harshly against him with a sickening crack. He held him at arm’s length, proud of his upper hand.

“Get off me!” Diego struggled, lunging out at him until he managed to twist the arm that held him at an awkward angle. Luther went to punch him, but his brother dealt him another sock on the jaw.

Both of them stumbled around, panting like drunk loons after closing hours.

Five gave his brothers a final glance to make sure he didn’t care about the outcome. “We don’t have time for this.” Satisfied with his original thoughts confirmed, he turned and left, making sure Nelle was in tow with him. It had been a while since he’d served his role as ‘mother-duck’, but his sister was almost on his heels as the ‘blind duckling’. The last thing he needed was for her to do something stupid like rushing into the fight to try and stop their long overdue scrimmage with one another. He had plans for her anyway. “Come on.” He encouraged as her pace slowed to try and sneak another glance at her brothers.

“Come here, big boy!” Came the battle-cry of Diego as Luther came barrelling towards him only to hit the revered statue of their late brother, knocking it down to the ground with the screeching scrape of metal against stone as Ben’s head rolled clean off.

“Oh…” Klaus whined.

“And there goes Ben’s statue.” Concluded Allison.

Nelle saw it flicker behind her eyes again as she followed her older brother inside once more. She wished she could have at least done something to prevent that from happening. It was collateral damage that only worsened the sinking cloud of depression upon all of them.

The glinting steel of his prime weapon caught a few specks of rain as the brother unsheathed it. “Diego, no!” Vanya yelled in anguish, dreading the inevitable. But it was too late. The knife flew through the air and cut clean through Luther’s layers of clothing, splattering crimson droplets across the ground.

Injured and panicked, Luther clutched at the rip in his clothes and thundered past Diego straight for the door that had clicked shut a few moments ago after Allison had left through them.

Vanya marched right up to the apparent victor. It wasn’t to congratulate him like he was used to after ‘winning’. “You never know when to stop, do you?”

But her brother only shook his head in disgust at her, leaning down to her smaller stature. “You got enough material for your sequel yet?”

“He was my father too.” Was the last word Vanya offered before she too headed back indoors.

* * *

**12 th January, 2002 –**

_17 years ago (again)_

_Nietzsche once said, ‘man is as a rope, stretched between the animal and the superhuman. A rope over an abyss. It is a dangerous crossing, a dangerous looking-back, a dangerous trembling and halting’._

_Looking up, the group of 7 children all kitted out in striking green tracksuits eyed the several layers of stairs they had been tasked to climb up in a race. At the very top, their father scribbled inside an embossed red notebook, his own initials in gold lettering on the worn cover. He was studious and determined in the manner, the pages and writing needing his attention far more than his lungs needed air to breathe or his eyes needed to blink._

_Waiting below, the children themselves didn’t dare talk, knowing all too well that their father would hear it even from up there whilst immersed in his own task of writing. They swallowed thickly, cracking their knuckles or bobbing from one foot to the other. One of the two girls had her eyes wide and glazed as she stood stock-still and her lip trembled with all the force of a breaking dam. And then it subsided, sinking away down an invisible drain as a trainer brushed purposefully against hers, bringing her back from the anticipation and many outcomes she could_ see _happening before the whistle had even been blown to start them off._

 _Nelle broke off from the glacier that had her frozen against her siblings as a whole,_ seeing _and knowing everything they would do and try to win themselves first place. She was an individual again and she could focus on herself and what she needed to do rather than worry about everyone else around her and what was coming next. Now that she knew, she could act accordingly._

_With the book now shut, Vanya blew hard on her whistle, initiating the hasty scramble of her siblings climbing up the flights of stairs as fast as possible._

_Luther advanced furthest first, using the strength in his legs as he took the lead. Diego cut a corner around his blond brother, succeeding in over-taking him and smirking as he started on the next flight a split-second before him. Allison was hot on Luther’s heels and Klaus on hers, Five neck and neck with Nelle and Ben lagging just behind them both._

_When the blonde sister felt the itching electrical sting against the back of her neck and in her temples, she knew what was coming. Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed onto Five’s shoulder as he blinked without warning into temporal space only to emerge at the front. And he took her with him, calculating for the added passenger without even realising it. Nelle smiled to herself as he looked over his shoulder, both still running, looking a mixture of impressed and annoyed._

_“That’s not fair! Five and Nelle are cheating!” Diego, now sadly third due to their antics, was quick to call out._

_Their watchful father might as well have rolled his eyes with how dismissive he sounded. “They adapted.”_

_“Better keep on adapting, Nelle.” Five chuckled as he put on an extra burst of speed, knowing she’d just take advantage of his powers again before he could even feel her there._

_Nelle would have laughed herself if she wasn’t running out of breath, putting in the extra effort to catch up to him as she heard Diego and Luther coming up rapidly behind her._

* * *

_The children hadn’t been entirely sure what a tattoo even was when their mother announced the term, their father quick to amend it to ‘brand’. They weren’t to be unsightly youths plastered in decorative ink, they were to bear the mark of their home and unit. They were to be branded. Like animals._

_They weren’t too sure of the process either, how long it would take or even how painful it would be, but the sight of the large pen-like needle that the recently-arrived man who was to ‘brand’ them revealed from his bag of equipment was enough to shuffle them into an awkward line away from the awaiting chair and the piece of paper depicting a familiar umbrella logo._

_Klaus had decided he’d go first, bravely pushing his way to the front. He now stood against one of the pillars with an equally sobbing and distraught Allison, clutching the sore, irritated skin of their left forearms. Even Diego was writhing in the chair, knee bouncing at a dangerous speed and hand clutched tight enough to rip the arm of the chair off if he’d possessed Luther’s strength. He groaned over the buzzing of the needle, his mother reaching out to cover his hand, but he pulled it away too fast. She too withdrew to stand with Sir Reginald Hargreeves who was adamant on seeing that each of the children received the inked logo; with the way the remaining four were fidgeting about, he knew it was a strong possibility that they could run off last-minute and outright refuse against it entirely._

_Luther folded his arms, tensing up and relaxing intermittently as he tried to determine which response would result in the most comfort during the experience and going from their current sibling’s facial expressions, the latter was probably wisest. Ben was breathing in short, shallow breaths, eyes darting back and forth from the needle in panic. Five had his knuckles braced against the leg he had crossed over his knee, his foot nudging against Nelle’s skirt as it jerked every so often. She glanced over at their father to make sure he was looking elsewhere and then rested her hand on his shaking foot, dipping her head in a subtle nod. He tilted his head towards her slightly and returned the nod, his eyes softening slightly from their heavy worry and her own melted away as they shared a renewed spark of courage._

_Sir Hargreeves gave a clearing cough of his throat and though it was purely for that very sake, Nelle jumped her hand back to her lap suddenly to avoid being caught. But as she inspected the gathered group a little closer, she recognised the absence of the third Hargreeves sister. The tingle on her neck assured her she wasn’t far, in fact, she was right behind them. And as she looked over her shoulder, there she stood on the stairs, apart. Nelle opened her mouth, but her voice was locked away at the hands of their very proximate father’s presence._

_Vanya caught her gaze and the blonde girl’s brows creased. The brunette’s face fell and she looked away. Why was she always separated? She was still their sister, surely_

_“Number Eight!”_

_Nelle snapped her head back around as their father marched over to stand above her. Diego was up from the chair, clutching his arm and leaning back against a different pillar to Klaus and Allison. Her three brothers sat in the row with her stared at her in apprehension. Sir Hargreeves stepped aside as he gestured to the chair with a jut of his chin._

_“Now you.”_

* * *

“I didn’t realise you’d be so out of practice with all that.” Five retracted his umbrella, giving it a brief shake before he placed it back into the empty (for once) stand by the door. He held his hand out to take Nelle’s courteously, but she was glowering at him with a sullen intensity. As he raised his brows, she shook her head, tucking her own umbrella into the stand with an undignified shoving motion.

“Okay then.”

Nelle turned to him sharply. “Out of practice?” She murmured just loud enough for him to hear in a surprisingly dark tone for her. “It’s not something I can control like a…a light-switch or something!” She exclaimed in a whisper-shout, mindful of the others emerging from just the other room back inside again.

Five raised his brows, looking over her indifferently and shrugging. “Ah, now that’s not true.” He watched as she took a bracing breath, nostrils flaring. “I’ve seen you control it. It’s clearly been a while.”

Nelle plucked at the ends of her ponytail, leaning back against the kitchen table with a deep sigh. Her fingers tapped at her temples, kneading out the knots of her headache as the sound of rustling packets and clinking crockery disrupted her. She found that Five was searching the shelves and cupboards tirelessly for something. He had a mug set out, but was apparently seeking the perfect sustenance to have from it.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for coffee.”

Nelle actually laughed out loud at his answer. She would forever disagree with him if coffee was now his go-to drink. Tea was her personal preference and she would make no hesitation on that matter. She knew his search would be fruitless anyway. As if Sir Reginald Hargreeves would ever permit such substances of the like in his own kitchen. She decided against mentioning it, though, eager to see how long it would take before he gave up on his mission for coffee.

“Alright.” She pushed herself back up to standing, staring at Five’s back with all the things she had to say and apologise for. Where to start? They were alone for now, but it was unlikely their privacy would last long. Was now even the best time for this? Perhaps she should wait until he’d had some coffee, when they could talk together uninterrupted. Not here, though. She wasn’t ready to relive everything and break down whilst surrounded by the overwhelming mass of the very place where it had all started. Away. Somewhere else, somewhere away.

“Five?”

“Mmhmm?” Came the reverb of his voice as he was buried shoulder-deep into one of the pantries.

“I need to talk to you, but..not here.” He pulled his head out, sizing her up for a moment before shutting the pantry doors. “We could go to a café. Coffee on me?”

Five’s lips parted as if he was going to agree and say ‘yes’ on the spot, but something held him back, a swirling thought that clogged up what he’d rather do than what needed to be done. He ran a hand over his chin, looking back up at her with his hands in his short pockets. “I have things I need to discuss with you too, but for now I need you to go home with Vanya.”

Nelle frowned. “Why?”

“Please.” That simple word was too powerful for its own good, especially from him when all the years of his age shone through in the perfect puppy-eye.

The young woman checked her pockets for her things and nodded, craning her head back as she heard Vanya and Pogo’s voices in the entrance hall. Just as she was leaving, she heard Five’s farewell to her.

“Thank you.”

She hoped it wouldn’t be too long until she saw him again, not another 17 years.

Nelle managed to walk in at just the right time, Pogo asking whether to call a taxi for her sister when Vanya insisted she already had one arriving shortly for her. Her gaze drifted towards her as she entered.

“Nelle?”

“Vanya, I wondered if I could accompany you home?” The blonde smiled earnestly. “I know it’s been a really long time and we haven’t had the chance to talk properly since. I don’t have to stay with you long, it was just-“

“No, please, I’d like that.” Her sister returned the smile, her ears pricking at the muted sound of a car horn beeping. “Just in time. That’s us, then.” She nodded at Pogo.

The elderly primate looked between the two women. “I hope you know your father loved you very much. In his own ways.”

Nelle stayed silent, head dropping as Vanya replied. “Yeah, well that’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?” A breath later, she swiftly changed the subject. “Take care of yourself.”

“You as well, Miss Vanya and Miss Nelle.” He watched as they left, now starting soft conversation with each other about a violin practice she had to attend and some groceries that had to be bought to stock the fridge up a bit more to be remotely hospitable.

Pogo lingered at the door as they climbed into the taxi together and left.

* * *

Back in the kitchen, Five had upturned nearly every storage compartment that could have housed even the smallest tin of coffee granules or beans, resorting to checking the ‘nuclear bunker’ stores and making sure the backs of the cupboards weren’t in fact housing a secret space behind. At some point during his hunt, Klaus had joined him in the kitchen, lounged on the chair at the head of the table as he hugged a guitar like a lover.

Allison now entered the scene, briefly taking in the two boys with some confusion before she continued with her query. “Where are Vanya and Nelle?”

“Oh, they’re gone.” Klaus announced, actually informed about something his other siblings were unaware of for once.

Five turned to the table with his disappointingly empty mug. “That’s unfortunate.” He could have been commenting on his sisters’ exit, but seemed more concerned about the lack of contents within his mug.

His remaining sister pressed further. “Yeah?”

“An entire square block. 42 bedrooms, 19 bathrooms, but no, not a single drop of coffee.” He grumbled. The glare in his eyes made it seem as though he might have throttled the person nearest to him should their heart even beat a second out of sync.

Allison wasn’t deterred. “Dad hated caffeine.”

“Well, he hated children too, and he had plenty of us.” Klaus gave a musical chortle, bare feet resting against the table.

Allison fixed him with a judging leer before switching back to their older brother who was already walking away in defeat. “I’m taking the car.”

Interest piqued, Klaus moved his guitar aside and uncrossed his legs, sitting properly as he watched Five with keen anticipation. “Where are you going?”

The boy shot daggers with all the accuracy of Diego straight at his face. “To get a decent cup of coffee.”

“Do you even know how to drive?” His sister pondered.

Looking about as fed up as a beaver with a splinter in its gums, Five scoffed, leaning over to lay his point in heavier. “I know how to do everything.” And as he turned to leave again, he was gone in a blink.

Klaus stood, inspecting the empty space where little Five had stood not two seconds ago. “I feel like we should try and stop him, but then again, I also just kinda want to see what happens.” The sound of a car engine starting sounded from outside before driving off.

* * *

The nearest place wasn’t the most classy or regal of establishments, but it used up the least amount of fuel and looked relatively cheap for what Five had in his pockets (which was surprisingly a lot considering the scrounged up savings he’d recovered from the dusty piggy bank in his sock drawer from when he was just a boy). It had a name like a greasy spoon, but it would suffice. It certainly had when they were all kids together. He shouldn’t really be so picky when he was expecting company in a matter of hours, but it was just enough time for a decent cup of coffee.

Walking in, he found the place empty, hopping up onto one of the bar stools. There was no staff in sight either, so he gave a thorough few taps to the bell on the counter, sighing. His coffee would just be delayed further, he supposed.

The door behind him opened and a man that must have been about his own mental age walked in and took a seat at the counter with him. He had a sniffle that he was wiping away with the back of his hand and a strong smell of gasoline and oil. As he sat down with a hefty exhale, he removed his cap and pulled out a crossword.

It wasn’t too long after he’d settled down that an older woman in a pink uniform and white apron emerged with a pad. “Sorry, sink was clogged.” She fiddled for a moment with the pencil from her top pocket. “So, what’ll it be?” She asked the man with the crossword.

“Uh, give me a chocolate éclair.”

“Mhmm, sure.” She nodded to herself as she scribbled down the order, glancing up at the boy next to him with a polite chime in her tone. “Can I get the kid a glass of milk or something?”

Scoffing, Five answered before the man with no affiliation to him whatsoever could. “The kid wants coffee. Black.”

Surprised, but amused, the lady smiled to the man, still presuming the two of them to be with one another. “Cute kid.” She chuckled softly, finding that the boy had stretched the widest school-boy grin on his face. Her amusement faded. “Okay..” She then left them to assemble their orders.

Satisfied that his coffee was finally on the way, Five eased his mind for the moment. He checked over his shoulder at the garish colour scheme and attempt at refurbishing. He clicked his tongue, musing aloud to the other gentleman. “Don’t remember this place being such a shithole. I used to come here as a kid. Used to sneak out with my brothers and sisters and eat doughnuts ‘til we puked. Simpler times, huh?”

The man seemed lost for words at the strange boy’s odd recollection. “Eh, I suppose.” He offered, thinking for a moment to himself before pulling some change from his pocket as the waitress returned with an éclair and Five’s much-awaited cup of coffee.

“Here.” She set them both down in front of the customers accordingly, catching sight of the dark outline of a tattoo on the boy’s arm with a worried expression that he was too consumed by his first sip to notice.

“I got his.” The man handed over enough payment to cover both of their orders.

Five peered over at him. “Thanks.” He set his drink down, reading the patch on the gentleman’s jacket: ‘ISHAMEL’S TOWING – 24 HOUR SERVICE’. “You must know your way around the city.”

“I hope so. I’ve been driving it for 20 years.”

“Good. I need an address.” The boy turned to him, reciting the desired location he needed to reach to chase up a loose end he had to tie off.

With the address written on a napkin, Five thanked the man again as he stood and took his leave, pocketing it safely away. He was ready to resume his cup of waiting coffee when the door opened once more. No one joined him at the bar or reached over to ring the bell for service. And whoever it was, they weren’t alone either. Looking into the reflection of the bell, Five counted 4 men with guns and dark clothes.

“Hmm, that was fast. Thought I’d have more time before they found me.”

The man closest to him had his gun aimed and ready on him. “Okay. So, let’s all be professional about this, yeah? On your feet and come with us. They want to talk.”

“I’ve got nothing to say.” Five shrugged, looking sadly down into his cup of mostly untouched coffee. It would be gone to waste before he’d even left the building.

The man seemed impatient with him, muffling a groan under his breath as he adjusted his gun. “It doesn’t have to go this way. You think I wanna shoot a kid? Go home with that on my conscience?”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry about that.” The boy gave the handle of the mug a longing caress before pushing it away with a sigh. “You won’t be going home.” He gave him a small smile, hand shifting to the butter knife just in front of him.

In that ear-popping ‘fwoom’, he blinked from where he sat to right behind the closest man, stabbing the knife into his shoulder, resulting in a nasty misfire on his comrade who fell back to the ground with a few ill shots fired from his own gun.

The two men still unharmed and standing looked around wildly for any sign of the boy who had seemingly vanished altogether. Five leaned casually on one of the tabletops as he reappeared.

“Hey, assholes!”

Disappearing again, he avoided the shots from all four of the men, the stab-wound victim managing to recover in time. Gunshots rang out loud and heavy, tearing up the walls and destroying any resemblance the signs may have depicted of doughnuts. They ceased fire to examine their success. But the boy was now on the other side of the front door, giving a hearty knock on the glass and a salute to the man that turned to find him there. He was gone again too late for any of his shots to find their mark.

Another bout of clueless searching and Five once again intercepted at the right moment, a piece of metal in his hands as he rammed it into the side of one of the men before leaving him to collapse. A tie wrapped itself around the neck of one of the others and the boy gave a yank, pulling him down hard against a table with a deadly force and expertise. Blinking back to retrieve the waitress’ pencil, he speared it into another man’s crotch, kicking a chair back to keep the remaining man at bay.

Five reclaimed the pencil and jammed it into the man’s eye, watching him recoil with a scream before falling silent. The last two men closed in on him, but he simply got between them and vanished as they unleashed their fury of gunfire upon each other instead.

Job done and men incapacitated, Five retrieved his tie from the choked man’s neck and slung it back around his collar, huffing in frustration as he heard the struggling grunts of a survivor. He headed over and dealt with the problem as one would with a glow-stick; he gave a quick snap.

Panting with the effort required from such a smaller body, Five noticed the familiar contraption of a tracking monitor. Perfect. He took one of their knives and laid his arm out against the counter, cutting deep into his flesh with a pained wince until he spied the flashing green light of the miniature tracking chip. He reached in clumsily with his fingers, managing to get a hold on the blood-covered thing. He held it up to his eyes and heard that annoying little beep it gave.

Five took it with him and left the scene, dropping it in a puddle by a drainage grate as he adjusted his tie and returned to the car. Time for his final stop of the evening.

* * *

Vanya had returned home from violin practice, not minding the slight drizzle of rain as she carried her hardy violin case over her shoulder back to her residence. Coming from the opposite direction, she recognised the familiar blonde head of her sister as she carried a couple of full, branded plastic bags.

“Oh! Vanya, it’s you. That was lucky, I think I left the spare key you gave me in your apartment.” Nelle smiled sheepishly, meeting her at the door that would lead upstairs to her home.

Vanya wasn’t bothered at all by it, smiling reassuringly. “Yeah, lucky you caught me. Come on, let’s head inside before the rain picks up.”

The two women moved inside the apartment complex and climbed the stairs to the second floor.

“How was your practice?”

“Oh, same as it always is. What did you buy? And how much do I owe y-“

“Vanya, please. This was my favour to you.” They paused for a second just to exchange pleased faces. “I just bought some general things. Bread, milk, some pasta bits.”

The brunette retrieved her key as they stopped outside her apartment door. “Sounds good. I hope you don’t mind sharing a bed, by the way. I’d offer you the couch, but it seems kinda mean and with how big my bed actually is, it seems pointless to-“

A lamp from within the apartment flickered on to illuminate the figure sitting beneath it before Vanya could even reach for the light switches. Both of the sisters jumped in surprise, Nelle not even catching a foresight with how at peace and distracted she’d been with her sister.

“Jesus!” Vanya yelped.

But when they recognised it as Five, they calmed down, exchanging wild eyes and ushering themselves inside.

“You should have locks on your windows.” The boy suggested nonchalantly.

Nelle moved towards the kitchen section to set down the groceries as Vanya set her keys down in the cute dish by the door. “I live on the second floor.”

Five shrugged. “Rapists can climb.”

Vanya turned to close and lock the door, shaking her head to herself whilst Nelle snickered softly under her breath. “You are so weird.”

Once the groceries were unpacked and their jackets were hung up, the two sisters joined their brother by sitting on the couch nearest to the chair he’d propped himself in. Now they could take him in without jumping out of their skin, their eyes spotted the red stains of blood on his previously stainless clothing.

“Is that blood?” Vanya pointed out, unsettled by his somewhat dishevelled appearance.

Five gave himself a once-over, apparently surprised he could even bleed. “It’s nothing.” He dismissed, but Nelle had already stood up and gravitated towards the medicine cabinet, finding the first aid kit with Vanya’s instructions.

As her sister fussed over collecting the right bits and pieces to properly tend to his wounds, Vanya questioned their brother. “Why are you here?”

Shifting in his seat and glancing briefly at Nelle, he explained himself. “I’ve decided you two are the only ones I can trust.”

The blonde woman raised her head from behind the kitchen counter at that, straightening herself up. “Why us?”

“Because you’re ordinary.”

“In what sense?” Nelle pressed further as she caught sight of their sister's face falling.

Five adjusted his phrasing to be a little less insensitive. “Because you’ll listen.”

“Okay..” Vanya sighed to herself, helping Nelle lay out the first aid kit and the other things she’d acquired together on the coffee table in front of them; bandages, band-aids, disinfectant, salve cream, the works.

The two sisters seated themselves closer to him, eyeing his arm as he rolled up his sleeve to reveal the weeping cut he had inflicted on himself. Vanya winced, dabbing a cotton ball in some of the clean water in the glass Nelle had brought over to clean away the blood, dirt and clothing fibres around his wound. Nelle readied another cotton ball with a bit of antiseptic. The whole time, Five was watching them.

“When I jumped forward and got stuck in the future, do you know what I found?”

Vanya didn’t answer as she moved away to dispose of the bloody cotton balls, leaving room for Nelle to take her place and dab at it with the disinfecting hydrogen peroxide. She checked to make sure it wasn’t stinging, but he was prodding her for another matter.

“Do you know, Nelle? Have you seen it?” It was a genuine question and one he was fearful to hear the answer of.

His sister shook her head. “N-no. No, I can’t even imagine what..I wouldn’t try to see that far ahead.”

“It’s not as far away as you might think.”

Both women looked at him with a stillness, Vanya seated beside Nelle again as she handed her some clean bandages to wrap around his wound in place of the shredded napkin he had been using. She opted for placing some adhesive stitches over it beforehand, however, not liking the depth of the cut.

“I found nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Five’s eyes were distant and mournful, the youthful green now old and withered with the burden of what he’d lived through weighing on his mind.

“As far as I could tell, I was the last person left alive. I never figured out what killed the human race, but…I did find something else; the date it happens. The world ends in eight days..and I have no idea how to stop it.”

Nelle had just finished tying his bandages, using a bit of medical tape to keep it in place when he’d dropped that bombshell. Her hands began to tremble as a vision threatened to take over, gradually shaking more violently. Five steadied her hand in his as Vanya took hold of her shoulder. Any glimpse into the next eight days would prove useful, but her brother wasn’t quite ready for her to suffer through the trauma he’d had to deal with since he was 13 just yet. Just having her listen to him was enough for now, he could get answers in the morning. He needed her in the ‘here and now’ currently.

The blonde woman was brought back from the precipice, her hands both squeezing onto Vanya’s on her shoulder and Five’s in her own palm. She mumbled an apology as she released them both. “Th-thanks..”

Vanya stood suddenly. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

Nelle nodded, still trying to remember how to breathe properly when she felt Five take hold of her hand again.

“Don’t go anywhere, now. I’m just getting started.” The corner of his mouth gave a twitch, treating her to a flicker of his dimple.

“Yeah, got me on the edge of my seat. 'M not going anywhere.” It was a shared promise.


	4. Chapter 3: Curiosity's A Posion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions dutifully carried for decades still await answers that will be ruthlessly hunted and bullied for. It's hard to find the balance between taking things on by oneself and knowing when to ask for help, an issue Five hasn't even had as an option until now.
> 
> Things are never as they seem on the surface, everything is out of reach when the world has grown taller around you and sometimes the past needs to be left to lie in its grave rather than be lured back out of temptation.
> 
> Misguided respect, unyielding remorse and buried secrets are sampled like fresh bread outside a bakery until it all turns stale as a brick in the mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I wrote some of this while I was drunk and I dreamt some other stuff that's in here too. Guess I'm just that powerful XD  
> Don't worry, I corrected my drunken spellings. You're welcome ;)

**10 th November 2002 –**

_17 years ago (again)_

_Delicate, Barbie-manicured hands lowered a pristine, finger-print void vinyl disc onto the patiently waiting gramophone. It spun leisurely on the inner spindle of the plateau turntable, the pastel-blue label dissolving the large font that read ‘MOUNTAINEERING’ into a hazy vortex that would immediately make any individual not afflicted with dyslexia sympathetic to those such victims. Fortunately, the invention is not designed to be read, but listened to as its grooves were traced over expertly by the tone-arm’s generously extended stylus._

_‘During extreme weather conditions, a climber must possess the wisdom to determine when evacuation is inevitable.’ The drone of a dry voice wafted gently through the air, permeating the atmosphere over the dining table._

_If the plastic-dolled woman could have inhaled deeply to scent the room, she would have determined it ‘ripe for lunch’. Instead, she walked her wide-hemmed skirt to the open doorway, a small silver bell in her hand as she rung its gentle chime to signal that it was at last mealtime to the biding empty stomachs._

_‘A controlled alpine descent begins with the grindings of one’s loins and the anchoring of the climbing rope to one’s enemy, the mountain.’_

_The voice lectured itself away as several pairs of footsteps tumbled themselves hastily down the stairs, enticed long ago by the delicious smell of food that their mother was near-professional in preparing for them. The dishes were always clean and empty by the end. And as each uniformed child gratefully entered to feed their eyes with the delectable sight before them, their mother stood as a keen statue by the entrance, gifting each with a beautiful grin that changed just slightly for each different face, treating them as the individual children that they were to her programming._

_As her eyes followed the last girl to her seat, she noted that there was a distinct lack of spring in two pairs of legs; the blonde bob, short-statured eighth and the brown-haired, notably dimpled fifth of the children. Her smile fractured at the detection of an anomaly only to quickly amend itself as the head of the table made his way in after the children. By automatic override, her blonde head snapped back, not a single hair moved from the sudden motion as a more respectful, greeting smile shone from between her ruby lips. He scarcely acknowledged that she had even been in his way on his usual march round to his rightful place, skirting carefully aside for him. This was not uncommon._

_‘The Dülfersitz rappel is the preferred method for descent when rope is the only tool, but must be regarded as a last resort.’_

_The patriarch pulled his chair out far enough to allow him space to stand between it and the table. He observed the waiting children, noting that none had dared to do more than drool and clutch a little tighter onto the backs of their chairs. With a single word, he triggered the permission of finally being able to tuck in: “Sit!”_

_‘A screen anchor must be used if the rope is to be successfully retrieved from the face of the mountain.’_

_The children followed suit and pulled out their chairs, seating themselves comfortably and plucking up their cutlery as they sought to fill their bellies. But the motions of a certain fifth child were stiff and removed, as though eating was nothing but a chore to him that he needed hastily cleared from his busy, preoccupied schedule. And this was rather peculiar behaviour for him. He was normally eager to dig in and finish his meal, having a few cheeky grins to spare to the sisters opposite and next to him._

_The rest of his siblings seemed quite normal for their standard of mealtime manners. Allison and Luther were exchanging knowing looks with each other before blushing into their plates. Diego was resuming his work on a carving in the arm of his chair. Klaus was rolling a blunt away from his father’s line of sight. Ben was reading one of Anton Chekhov’s works, this particular one detailing a bet between a young lawyer and a banker about the death penalty over a life in prison. Vanya was cutting her food into unnecessarily small pieces, as if it would make the sociable mealtime last longer. It wasn’t for the sake of the food that she enjoyed mealtimes, but the entire gathering of her family. The one occasion that they would all be together for. But her blonde sister seated next to Ben on her right was acting strange, as well as Five, she noticed._

_Nelle hadn’t touched her cutlery, almost mimicking the brother opposite her, but he was only looking in one direction: straight at their father. Her blue eyes flickered only between him and her equally untouched plate. As the voice murmured in the background, despite it being the only speaking voice in the room, her eyes seemed to grow rounder and sadder until she resembled something from a cartoon, much like their own mother._

_‘Tightly knot the ends of the rope. Once anchored, thread the doubled rope through the legs, front to back, and around the buttocks. It is of utmost importance that the rope be drawn under the gluteal muscles, not through the crevice between the gluteus.’_

_Vanya’s brown gaze was switching rapidly between both of her neighbouring siblings as their overwatching father simply drank from his glass, amused at the stifling tension his son seemed to be amassing in the air as he stared at him._

_‘Proceed by holding the rope diagonally-‘_

_Five drove his knife deep into the table, startling the enforced peaceful ambience as everyone’s head flicked up to inspect the unexpected disturbance. As the boy uncurled his fist from the handle, it stayed embedded in the fine wood, standing upright unaided._

_“Number Five?” Resounded the bored acknowledgement of his father, more fascinated with his food than the issues his son was raising._

_“I have a question.” If he could have spat venom, it would have left some nasty stains on the tablecloth._

_Nelle held her breath as Vanya shifted to look over at her, mouthing and gesturing to their brother with her fork, a question of her own in her eyes. Her sister struggled to even blink, her teeth disagreeing with her tongue as she fought to speak up as well, her own gaze still fixed worriedly upon Five._

_“Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules. No talking during mealtimes. You are interrupting Herr Carlson.” And as Sir Reginald Hargreeves fell silent after a wave of his knife, the record rejoined the chorus of mealtime._

_“I want to time travel.” Nelle winced at his raw demand. He’d talked of nothing else for almost a month and a half by now. He’d carried an arrogant, crazed look in his eyes that only festered and grew each time he was denied or talked down from his prime ambition. Nothing had irritated him more. And Nelle would know. She had set him off on this bitterest (so far) tangent ever since their disagreement last night. It was her fault. She’d denied him too._

_“No.” It was an answer both Five was tired of hearing and his father tired of using._

_His features twitched angrily. “But I’m ready. I’ve been practicing my spatial jumps, just like you said.” To prove his point, he stood up from his seat and blinked himself from the opposite end of the table to right beside his father. “See?”_

_Argument already ended in his mind, Sir Hargreeves shook his head, not sparing him a glance. It was barely worth sparing his breath. “A spatial jump is trivial when compared with the unknowns of time travel. One is like sliding along the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn.”_

_Fed up and frustrated, Five gritted his teeth and hissed out through his terse lips. “Well, I don’t get it.”_

_Vanya had comfortably returned to her meal, She’d witnessed the stubbornness of their brother more than once and she thought that this would end the same as all the rest; Five would get up and prove his point, their father would refuse and talk him down, Five would rebuke with further evidence of his readiness or perhaps a bargain and finally their father would dismiss the matter entirely and promptly leave without resolution. It was routine by now. But Nelle felt that this was different, it was prickling along her neck like all those ‘definites’ she could_ see _coming and something was wrong. This time it would end differently and not in a way anyone would have wished for. It was still too blurry and hazy along the timeline, as if he wasn’t remaining in this one alone, but jumping to a different one entirely-!_

_Nelle choked on the water she’d been sipping from her glass, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her throat was burning with the wrong way the liquid had gone down, but she needed to intervene before it was too late. She wheezed and spluttered, but it was a mouse scuttle compared to the rampaging elephants on the other end of the table._

_“Hence the reason you’re not ready.”_

_Five shifted between his feet, hands in his pockets as he looked back down to find Vanya shaking her head and rubbing Nelle’s back as the blonde herself was trying to splutter something at him. He stood up straighter, turning back to his father with more determination burning in his green eyes._

_“I’m not afraid.”_

_“Fear isn’t the issue. The effects it might have on your body, even on your mind, are far too unpredictable.” He dropped his cutlery with a clatter, turning to glare at him with all the demeanour one could muster from behind a monocle. It was impressive, to say the least. “Now, I forbid you to talk about this anymore.”_

_That was it. That was the final tone of his final word. But Five didn’t make any move back towards his seat. He spared no further glance to those around him. He simply left, taking off at a raging speed out through the room and into the hall. The glass doors of the porch swung open loudly as did the gates beyond._

_“Number Five! You haven’t been excused! Come back here!”_

_Nelle made to stand with a loud scrape of her chair, but she was promptly tucked back in, her napkin laid out on her lap. A bright smile met her as she looked up to find her mother. “You dropped your napkin, silly. Try to take slower sips next time.” She added as she revealed a cloth from nowhere and mopped up the minor spillage on the table. The blonde girl’s eyes brimmed with fearful worry and she felt it rising up in her chest, her mother slowing her actions and resting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetie. Just keep-“_

_“Five’s going to jump!” Came her panicked, breathless squeak. It stunned the table into a different silence as each of the Hargreeves children swivelled to gawk at her like owls. She wasn’t much of a talker, but at mealtimes when it was forbidden? She was the only other to break that rule. They had an inkling it wasn’t just an envious imitation._

_The blonde girl stood up, napkin falling to the floor again as her mother jumped back and crouched down to fetch it. Nelle mustered everything that was inside her small little body, remembering all those times Five had taught her the right phrases, the right posture and the right expression. She held her shoulders back and her head high, her face hardened, and her fists clenched. “Five’s going to get himself in trouble, and I have to stop him before it’s-!”  
_

_“Number Eight!” Five had warned and prepared her for the resulting counterattack from her siblings, but it was a pygmy marmoset compared to the full wrath of their father. Her fists grabbed at the hem of her blazer and she swallowed down against the thick syrup of bile in her throat. “I will not have any further disruption to this mealtime! You will be seated and continue in silence like the rest!”_

_Nelle slumped back down into her chair as if she was made of limp celery, her mother scootching her back in and placing her napkin back onto her lap again. “Eat up before it gets cold, munchkin.” She said breezily before walking back with a clicking of her heels to stand just to the right behind the head of the household, hands folded in front of her._

_The girl felt as fragile as a calving glacier and as airless as if she were in the sands of the Sahara and as she closed her eyes, willing just a brief glimpse into the future to see Five would be okay and would return safely, there was nothing. A shadow of his silhouette and then nothing. He was gone. It was too late._

* * *

_With a coursing adrenaline high of a rebellious, newfound freedom, Five strode confidently out onto the streets. No one was following him. They didn’t even care. It didn’t matter. Even if they did come, they wouldn’t be able to stop him or prove him wrong anyway. Irritation still painted his face a rather frightening, grim shade, but it only fuelled his burst as he forced himself through his usual energy field and through the vortex into the future._

_He gave a hearty scoff to himself as he checked his surroundings; the sun was shining brightly in the clear blue sky, a sure reminder that it was now in fact summer, and not nearing winter as it had been when he’d left._

_“Not ready, my ass.”_

_He was grinning now, excited and cocky with his discovered ability as he forced himself through into a snowing winter, still on the same street down from the manor’s academy. It was working! He’d done it! He could do it! A voice at the back of his head piped up that perhaps now was a good time to return, to brag and boast about his adventure to his siblings, gladly taking a punishment only to shove all the ‘readiness’ the old man believed he didn’t possess right in his obnoxious, moustached face. But that voice was punched down and pushed aside as easily as the old man himself, the cheering voice asking for ‘more, more, let’s see how far we can go’ favoured instead._

_Five smirked, grunting slightly with the extra effort required for this bigger jump as he stumbled into a future that had to be at least two decades away. But there were no outrageous fashions patrolling the streets, no shiny new inventions or interesting ways to style and colour one’s hair and do one’s daily makeup; there was just rubble and fire and ash._

_The boy slowed to a confused halt, irises widening in shock and pupils shrinking in disbelief as he took in the broken, ruined buildings of the marred street. The only sign that there had been a road at all were the crumpled, melting cars scattered about. The sky above was black and sooty, clouds of smoke billowing up and smothering the pale sun. There was nobody else in sight, just lapping flames and an acrid taste of despair._

_A sinking feeling of regret and panic dropped into his stomach as he dared to look over his shoulder. It was a mirror of the destruction ahead of him, but surely the manor was still intact? Nothing could ever destroy such a building. The others must be huddled inside the bunker shelter, waiting for it all to be over, whatever had caused this chaos. Or perhaps they were even elsewhere trying to stop more of this awful damage._

_Wherever they were, they had to be alive. Five turned on his heel and sprinted back to his home, avoiding the debris and rubble where he could, but as he arrived at the gates, he discovered that the same fate had befallen his family already. In fact, the gates couldn’t even be considered what they were anymore with the way they were mangled and splayed against what was left of the walls. The doors were melted and charred, and the building’s foundations stood no taller than Five himself._

_Desperately, he called into the remains. “Nelle! Vanya! Ben!” He bit back a sob. “Dad!” No one answered. He turned back to the empty world. “Anyone!” Still, no reply came._

_He couldn’t stay here. He had to get back. This was all a mistake and he’d warn his father about what he’d seen, and he could still be proud and smug about it with his tale to tell. He wouldn’t admit he was wrong, but perhaps he should have listened to the old man’s advice a little more closely._

_Five bunched his fists together as he tried to emerge into his energy field. It didn’t open like it always did. It forced him out as he tried to barge in. Dread filled his mouth._

_“Come on!”_

_No, he just wasn’t trying hard enough! He grunted with the effort, feeling parts of his muscle tear with the intense pressure he was exerting on his body, memories beginning to warp and slip as he pushed against the time barrier. It didn’t work. He’d kill himself if he tried any harder._

_“Shit..”_

_Dropping his hands like stones, he fell to his knees in front of his burning home. Tears had trailed down from his eyes in slivers, glistening against his skin as he was left with no other option but miserable defeat. And there was nobody around to blame. No one but himself._

* * *

**25 th March 2019 (an unreasonable hour)–**

Back in their present moment, in the wake of night stretching into morning, the three figures sat in the din of the main room, illuminated by a sole new-bulb-fitted lamp that haloed around the boy’s dark brown head of hair. The air had grown stuffy and hot with the apprehension of an impending doomsday looming over their heads that Five had confessed to them. He was fidgeting and his lips kept twitching against each other, as if they were squirming for space around his teeth, sifting out the right words for his two, young sisters to process. And the more he divulged to them of his story, the more they appeared as children. Their eyes wide and open, backs tautly straight, hair neatly cut by the hands of a machine, mouths smaller than an insect as they may as well have been absent entirely from their face with the silence they’d orchestrated.

And there was that voice, so similar to his old companion’s yet not quite her own. It was something else. His conscious? No. That had fled the nest a long time ago, when he’d started using that gun he carried around for ‘precautionary measures’. Not that gun specifically, of course, but metaphorically in this sense. Number Five had held and used an impressive, diverse array of hand-held weaponry, not just limited to guns. But that voice was telling him he had other options to try before he gave in and carried out this mission by himself. He could trust these two of his siblings, the two sisters he’d been closer to than the rest. They weren’t kids anymore, but their loyalty had lasted. He could see it in the stationary colours of their yawning eyes.

So Five confided in them the horrid secret of the dreadful apocalypse.

“I survived on scraps. Canned food, cockroaches; anything I could find.” He had done well to paint a grim picture with his recollection, but he didn’t want to shy the truth. He trusted them. Chuckling to himself at an emerged unpleasant memory, he recounted it to them. “You know that rumour that Twinkies have an endless shelf life? Well, it’s total bullshit.”

Vanya shuddered, hunching back over from where she had been poised stiffly upright. Nelle remained in the visibly uncomfortable position. “I can’t even imagine.”

“You do whatever it takes to survive, or you die.” Five stared distantly into his emptying mug of coffee.

Nelle’s mouth was dry, her throat was parched. She coughed awkwardly, hacking like a cat with an ill-timed hairball. Five glanced up as Vanya rubbed at her back, standing up to run a glass under the tap to bring her some water. The blonde woman had rediscovered old, polluted dreams from some crevice in her mind of a wasteland akin to the one her own brother had just described and she couldn’t quite place it in the category of real ‘visions’, a bad sense of déjà vu or just a nightmare that happened to be familiar. But Five seemed to take it as the former of the three options, a knowing gleam in his green eyes as he leaned back in the chair, looking over her observantly.

He scanned over her once more as her blue eyes drifted back to him, the water her sister had kindly brought over now quenching the desert of her oesophagus. When he was certain she had nothing to say, he continued. He’d need to bring up the matter more privately with her, it would seem. “So, we adapted. Whatever the world threw at us, we found a way to overcome it.”

The brunette attempted to pick up on the use of that plural pronoun he had intentionally used. She hoped, at least, that it wasn’t in fact due to some trauma-induced schizophrenia. “We?”

Five bartered with her again on the matter, brandishing the dregs of coffee at the bottom of the mug. “You got anything stronger?”

Vanya thought to herself for a minute, trying to remember whether she did in fact have any alcohol stocked in her cupboards. Mumbling something about an award ceremony, she stood and headed back over to the kitchen area, fetching a simple juice glass amidst her rifle.

Nelle raised a brow at their brother. “Is now really a good time to be drinking?”  
  
He stood with a sigh. “Don’t lecture me about that now, Nelle. God, I forgot how similar you two are..”

“What was that?” She questioned, but Five had already moved over to where Vanya was holding out a glass of whiskey to him.

The boy downed it in a wincing swig, licking a droplet from the corner of his lip after he swallowed it back. He inspected the scrunching face of his other sister, the way her brown gaze eyed him like a mental asylum escapee.

He shook his head in disbelief. “You think I’m crazy.”

Nelle stood up at that, walking over to join the two of them, arms folded over herself as though worried her innards would come spilling out and leave a nasty stain and lingering smell on Vanya’s apartment-fitted carpet. “No. Of course we don’t.”

“I think Vanya would disagree with you.”

“No! It’s just…it’s a lot to take in.” The brunette stammered, adjusting the high buttoned collar of her grey shirt.

Five scrutinised the woman. “Exactly what don’t you understand?”

“Why didn’t you just time travel back?”

Nelle pinched the bridge of her nose, not needing her powers to detect the sardonic response from the boy.

He scoffed and rolled his shoulders back as if her question had struck him deep and had him stumped. “Whew! Gee, wish I’d thought of that.” His sarcastic grin dropped and he levelled with her in his usual, blunt manner. “Time travel is a crapshoot. I went into the ice and never acorn-ed.” Five exhaled with signs of struggle.

“Five-” Nelle prompted as she took a step towards him, trying to call him off his bitter rant. He was clearly drained and in need of rest after keeping himself awake with coffee and dealing with all his siblings once more. Minus Ben, who had actually been one of the more reasonable type. So that was a shame.

He ignored her, dealing another jab to Vanya. “You think I didn’t try everything to get back to my family?

She hung her head, mulling over it briefly. “If you grew old there, you know, in the apocalypse, how come you still look like a kid?”

Five couldn’t even look at her anymore with how tedious she was being to him at that moment. “I told you already.” He brushed past her and went straight for the bottle of whiskey. Nelle tried reaching for it first, wanting to try and preserve his fresher mindset so he’d sleep better, but he gave her a hard look that had her surrendering it to him with a disapproving sigh.

“I must have got the equations wrong!”

“I mean, Dad always used to say that…” Vanya hesitated, watching with caution as Five filled his cup up to a greater volume. “…time travel could mess up your mind. Well, maybe that’s what’s happening?”

He took a languid sip, relishing the nostalgic burn against the back of his tonsils as it washed over them. He ran a hand over his face in aged anguish and impatience. “This was a mistake. You’re too young.” He finished the glass and set it down, moving around her and to the front door. “Too naïve to understand.”

Nelle walked after him as did Vanya, neither ready to see the back of him leave again just yet. “Five, wait!”

“No, Five..Five, please wait.”

The boy slowed and came to a stop, turning to regard his two sisters from over his shoulder. They were pleading with him; they really didn’t want him to go. He still treasured that strong loyalty. It was always an unspoken pact between the three of them and he was glad to see it survived the test of time and separation. He waited as they asked it of him.

“We haven’t seen you in a long time, and we don’t want to lose you again.” Vanya spoke loud and clear. “That’s all.”

“Don’t make us go through that again. Please, Five.” Nelle’s voice had shrunk down into a whisper, but her brother had heard it all the same. He digested the old, but warming sensation of hearing such heart-felt words at his own leisure.

Meanwhile, Vanya shuffled back towards the couch, plumping up and rearranging the cushions and pillows. “And you know what, it’s getting late and I have lessons early, and we need to sleep, and I’m sure you do too. Here.”

Nelle caught on to what she was doing and helped her lay out a blanket on the couch, feeling Five’s watchful gaze linger on them.

“We’ll talk in the morning again. Okay? I promise.”

“Yeah, we’re not going anywhere.” Nelle added.

Vanya smiled at her gratefully, walking past both of them as she made her way to her bedroom door. “Night.”

Five nodded subtly, returning the sentiment. “Night.”

“You coming, Nelle?” Vanya held the door open for her.

Her sister was still studying Five, catching his inquisitive green as he looked up and back at them. He dipped his chin towards her, his dimple flickering at her again in a tug of a smile.

She returned it, but hers was less fickle and lasted until she looked away again and followed after Vanya. “Goodnight, Five.” It felt so nice to say those words again.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a great selection of pyjamas. I’m sure I’ve got some that’ll fit you, though.”

“Don’t worry, honestly. It’s just for tonight and then I can go get some of my own clothes from home.”

“You wanna spend more than one night? In this dingy place?”

“It’s not dingy, stop being so-“

As the door closed on their conversation, Five attended to his own matters. Now sat on the comfortable set-up his sisters had generously offered him, he took out a folded piece of cloth. From within, he retrieved a glass eye. He narrowed his eyes as the brown plastic glared back at him from beneath the glaze. He was more intrigued by the precious information on the back of the eyeball anyway and it didn’t have to stare at him from this angle. The letters read ‘MERITECH’ and beneath that was a series of numbers following an S#, a serial number. Thinking his options over again and sparing another glance at the closed door of the bedroom, the boy made his decision. He wouldn’t be staying the night.

Five stood, folded the eye back up and safely tucked it into his pocket before he unlocked the front door and let himself out. He would be doing this alone after all. Vanya didn’t understand and he wasn’t sure if she ever would with her lack of expertise and experience in the field. Nelle was on the cusp of understanding. She had the experience of delving into the unexpected and unwelcome future and it wouldn’t be long until she realised it was real. But until then, he couldn’t involve her.

* * *

The hazy warmth of the morning sun was a renewed wash over the foggy heads of troubled dreams and stuffy sleep. The somewhat modest, metal-framed queen-sized bed had proven just enough space for the two sisters, both turned away from each other due to their naturally preferred sleeping positions. But Nelle had slept in her fair share of beds over the last recent years. She was almost certain her spine had learned how to twist and adapt to any type of mattress, whether it was softer than conditioned goose down or as bracing as the cement floor. Vanya’s bed was a good distance from the cold, hard floor and yet not too plush and engulfing. Her sister preferred a firmness that she could get used to far too easily. In fact, it was such a nice contrast to be able to enjoy a good night’s sleep in someone else’s bed for once, sheets only disturbed and rumpled by natural movement and adjustment throughout the course of their nightly REM cycles.

But she wasn’t to be a burden to her sister. Vanya wasn’t accustomed to visitors and guests, as Nelle had come to realise, and she didn’t want to intrude too much on her untainted life. Spending the night together under the same roof again was a surreal, calming nostalgia she hoped to relive sooner rather than later, however. Things had always just felt natural between them. Even with the enforced distance maintained by their father. Especially after Five had left. The space between them felt far greater, but their fear of jumping across that gaping chasm had all but dissipated entirely. The comfort of a sibling that could tolerate her as she could tolerate them in return. The difference of powers was never a concern. In those brief moments when they could sit in each other’s room, in that scheduled half an hour on Sundays, they didn’t even feel like sisters. They were secret friends. A reduced trio to a duo, although Vanya had shamefully been more excluded from them before Five’s disappearance. And now everything had changed. There was no normalcy in their distant lives that they had forged for themselves. Everything had fallen apart. At least this was the eye of the storm, Nelle considered to herself; the worst would hit them, but not yet. For now, she would indulge the private time they had allocated to listening to their long-lost, now found, brother. Too much time had slipped away and she couldn’t afford to lose any more of those precious years that had suddenly shrunk into a single week.

The blonder of the two women was the first to sit up, far too practiced in how not to rouse the companion sleeping beside her, she carefully rearranged the sheets to keep Vanya exactly as she had been. She smiled as she took note of how softened her facial features were in the numbing capture of sleep; void of any worry or pressure. She was finally relaxed and at ease with everything around her. Her contentedness found a way out through the closed windows, though, as that awful rhythmic buzz sounded thrice in rapid succession from her bag beside the bedside table nearest to her. It was a burner phone with all her ‘work’ contacts. She wasn’t too surprised at the rage she was on the receiving end of from abruptly cancelling her upcoming ‘appointments’. Her income would suffer for the next few days, but with the fate of the world as everyone knew it teetering on the threshold of 8 final days, she wasn’t too concerned. It was a hefty stake to place her whole career on (she’d had to close the humble flower shop she ran as well – her ‘day job’), but Five’s tale of an apocalyptic future was eerily familiar in ways she still couldn’t quite place and she refused to dismiss it so simply.

Nelle sighed as she gave the habitual tug at her now very messy and very tangled ponytail that she had made the bold decision to sleep in. Her hand stretched out towards her bag, but withdrew in a jerking motion as she thought better of it. Five’s apocalypse matters would need her full, undivided attention and she knew her focus would be drifting constantly to the countless texts she needed to respond to, that wouldn’t stop coming in once she gave them a response. Instead, she settled for an aggravated nudge with her foot against it. Not quite as aggressive to be called a ‘kick’, but enough to knock it over in an undignified manner. The poor thing looked rather disgruntled on its side, lumped over as it was. Much like a toddler insisting they could crawl for the rest of their lives rather than going through the arduous, tedious process of walking.

It succeeded in creating enough of a noise to wake Vanya. Nelle winced, looking over guiltily as the brunette began shuffling out of the sheets, a yawn claiming her mouth as her fingers tended to the accumulated rheum on her eyelashes. Nelle had learned that one could tell a lot about a person from how they woke up after a good night’s rest; Vanya was clearly unused to such happenings, a surprised widen in her brown eyes as she removed the hand instinctively massaging her temples from the lack of a headache. She must have aided her own sister’s sleep too. Nelle felt a flicker of pride at that thought.

“Good morning.” She greeted Vanya with a croak in her voice, clearing her throat for a moment and apologising.

Her sister sat up, nodding at her. “Morning. How’d you sleep? I hope the bed wasn’t too-“

“I slept perfectly, actually. That sounds…odd, but it’s the best way to sum it up.” Nelle shrugged. “Did you sleep alright?” It was strange being able to talk to who she’d slept beside in the morning and have it be about something completely ordinary. She’d craved ordinary. Ordinary had been the chaos of the academy, the environment they’d grown up in. It was nice to have a piece of that to call her own again.

Vanya’s head inclined towards her in interest. “No, no, it was the same for me. I don’t think I’ve slept that well for…years.” They shared a bout of breathless laughter, like at the peak of a sleepover, although this should be considered the aftermath given it was now morning. That realisation crossed Vanya’s mind and she sat straighter. “Oh, my god. Five!”

Nelle swung her legs round and over the edge of the bed, standing herself up and not caring about her attire as she strode with invigorated purpose towards the door. Vanya had lent her a pair of grey checked pyjama bottoms and a loose-fitting shirt in an indiscernible shade of lavender or just a blushing grey. As if colours could even blush, what a ridiculous notion...

With the knowledge that their brother was waiting just next door, the women were instantly on their toes and wide awake. They had promised to listen to him come morning. Which it now was. Promise overdue.

Vanya reached for the door first, having been the closest from her side of the bed. Nelle hoped they would find their brother sober, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, the tip of his radical claims about the impending apocalypse waiting impatiently on his tongue. Thinking back on it, one of them should probably have had the sense of mind to remove the whisky from his reach. Or the room. Or even the apartment. The blonde woman hoped he hadn’t drunk himself unconscious in bitter despair on Vanya’s kitchen floor. Or left some nasty stains to be cleaned up and attacked with by their lingering odour.

Pushing her troubling thoughts aside, she joined Vanya in crossing the threshold.

“Hey, Five?” Vanya called out as she walked through with Nelle. But as they walked past the kitchenette and into the living room space, they found that the couch was painstakingly empty. And worse than that, untouched. He hadn’t even stayed the night. He had fled the minute they’d turned their backs. The two sisters exchanged a look of panic. “Oh, shit..”

Nelle shared her sister’s sympathies as she ran a hand through her hair in anguish. A stone dropped down from her throat into her stomach as she came to face the ugly truth; that Five had left. He hadn’t been that source of comfort and reassurance she’d drawn on just to get her eyes to shut and her brain to power down last night. He’d left them again. A sour taste of anger sprouted on her tongue, but it was overwhelmed by the sharp pangs of sadness and incessant worry. He did too much without ever explaining himself, never answering the obvious questions. He’d gone gallivanting off on his own again without telling anyone and if those bloodstains and open wounds had been anything to go from last time he’d shown up after disappearing, she could only dread about what sort of state they’d find him in.

“Where…where is he? Where could he have-?” Her voice lacked any body in it, like a rich wine lost of its aged flavour and purged of all its alcohol. Just the minor dregs that dragged the hefty price down. From wine to grape water.  
  
Vanya sensed her worry and she couldn’t have empathised more, but she needed to be the grounding one in this circumstance. She was still coming to grips with the situation whilst Nelle had leapt twenty steps ahead as her thoughts kept escalating until they spiralled.

“I’m sure he’s absolutely fine.” The lie tasted foul in her mouth, but it was an attempt to calm herself as well. “He probably just didn’t want to intrude and went back to the academy. That’s all. He’s survived on his own so long, he can’t be in too much trouble.”

Somehow both reassured and disheartened with that refresh of information, Nelle’s mind slowed down. She took a deep, steadying breath and nodded. “Okay. Okay, let’s go look for him at the academy. He’s gotta be there. He’s there.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Let’s just get dressed first, okay?” Vanya held her eye contact just to make sure she had registered the important steps before they could go running around like headless chickens on a frantic search. Get dressed, brush teeth, wash face, eat something and then go. Those were key at the very least.

Nelle scoffed at her own foolishness. They were still in pyjamas, of course. How was Five so easily incorporated back into their lives? Why did he have to be so important to them and yet stray from them so constantly? She would be sure to sit his ass down as soon as they found him. “Yes, that’s a very good point. Thank you for the reminder.”

Vanya rubbed a hand over her arm. She didn’t say anything else, but nothing else was needed. They knew their course of action and simply had to take it.

* * *

Having a rather sparse history of trips to prosthetic clinics, Five wasn’t exactly sure how they were supposed to look and feel. A relatively modern development, timeline considered. But this one was blanched and lacked any kind of aesthetic appeal. It could have been teeming with radiators on every inch of wall, but it would still have that icy, standoffish chill. It was nothing to be welcomed by. Yet Five felt rather at home in this environment, a feeling he was quite disgusted with. He would have gladly squashed it beneath the heel of his brogues if it had been an insect on the blemish-free stone floor.

The glass eye gripped securely between the knuckles of his right hand kept him on the determination of his current task. The one he’d selflessly elected to undertake alone despite the divulgence in two of his siblings. They would be a hindrance. He needed this to go smoothly after all those years of waiting in the darkness of not knowing, with just the prosthetic found in one of his dead brothers’ hands. Answers he had long lost the patience to be civil and pleasant to receive.

The boy stood idly, rotating on the spot as he awaited the undoubtedly bumbling ‘doctor’ to come and attend to his concerns. The lady at the desk had been overly polite and he’d managed a smile to help hurry things along, but 4 minutes was verging on unreasonable. He was itching with that burden of a countdown timer pressing down on his back.

Finally, a short man with recently combed hair dressed in office clothes, lanyard and lab-coat walked out to greet the secretary, but his attention was immediately drawn to the ‘client’ that had summoned for him. A boy in schoolboy uniform looking confident enough to claim he owned the place, or at least a sizeable share in their production and output. The man had clearly been expecting someone more...well, older for one thing. Perhaps anything but a sleep-deprived schoolboy playing hooky for the day?

“Uh, can I help you?” The man asked, unsure how to hold himself in the presence of a lone boy in such a place. He certainly didn’t look in need of a prosthetic and was definitely below the age of being in charge of his own consent.

Five turned at the greeting he had been waiting to hear for a painfully slow 4 and a half minutes, holding up the glass eye he could practically call an accessory with the indents it had left in his pockets. “I need to know who this belongs to.” He left no way around it, no compromises. Just a statement. A hard fact. Adults were good with hard facts. Especially ones with degrees. This should be easy.

“Where did you get that?” Apparently not.

“What do you care?” But as he suspected, the blunt defiance he’d bounced back on him had backfired too. Of course it would from a boy to a man. God, what he wouldn’t give just to have his moustache again! Just that little bit of facial hair to suffice for ‘I’m as mature as the alcohol I drown my sorrows in each evening’.

Taking a different approach, he tried on the role of the ‘schoolboy’ they were treating him as. “I found it. At a playground, actually. Must have just ‘clck’!” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Popped out.” He beamed thoughtfully.

The man responded better this time, smiling back.

“I wanna return it to its rightful owner.”

“Oh, what a thoughtful young man.” The secretary gushed aloud, unable to help eavesdropping on their proximate conversation. And it wasn’t everyday boys with glass eyes walked in anyway. It was usually arms.

Five, already irritated with the way ‘young man’ was so easily plastered over his façade, bit back, role be damned. “Yeah. Look up the name for me, will ya?”

The woman frowned suddenly in a startled and increasingly offended manner. But it disappeared just as quickly. She’d obviously dealt with her fair share of these matters.

“Uh, I’m sorry, but patient records are strictly confidential. That means I can’t tell you-“

“Yeah, I know what it means.”

“But I’ll tell you what I can do. I will take the eye off your hands and return it to the owner. I’m sure he or she will be very grateful, so if I can just-“

“Yeah, you’re not touching this eye.” The boy snarled with a glowering menace in his green eyes.

“Now, you listen here, young man-“

Five lunged and grasped at the collars of his lab coat, fisting the fabric harshly as he pulled him forcefully down to his level. “No! You listen to me, asshole. I’ve come a long way for this, through some shit your pea-brain couldn’t even comprehend, so just give me the information I need, and I’ll be on my merry way.” The man’s lips pursed as if he were about to speak, but the boy wasn’t finished. “And if you call me ‘young man’ one more time, I’m gonna put your head through that damn wall.” He gestured with a jut of his chin to the very same pristine wall of white to his left.

“Oh, dear.” The secretary sensed the climax had peaked and was already poised over the phone, just awaiting permission from the doctor.

“Call security.” The man strained out against the slightly (impressively) choking hold the boy had on him.

“Yeah.” Phone in hand and against her ear, she dialled the memorised number.

Five’s features twitched in synchronised anger as he shoved the man away and released him. He looked dishevelled, but otherwise unharmed. Five had lost this round, but he wouldn’t give up so easily. He just needed reinforcement. It hadn’t gone according to plan, it just required adjustment. Adaptability was fortunately something he was rather gifted at. He would manage.

* * *

“Five?”

Upon arriving back at their childhood home, both Nelle and Vanya had begun the search for their brother the very moment they’d walked in through the front doors. Eyes scanning along every inch of the walls, peeking through into the other rooms as though he would drop down and out of his likeness in the oil portrait above the mantle. Nelle hadn’t realised she’d been moving towards it out of instinct until Vanya’s hand found the dip in her lower back, guiding her towards the stairs.

Nelle’s face dropped as she realised how half-witted she seemed, dazed and ditzy as her mind had shrunk overnight, back to the soft brain her younger self had possessed; when all her priorities were under this very roof. No life for her stretched beyond the manor, not unless it was a mission. It sparked into being active, back into the familiar role of being a sister searching for one of her siblings in those training games that could hardly be compared to their original name-sake of ‘hide-and-seek’ for they were anything but fun for the seeker who was to be ambushed without warning. Nelle could never get her restless nerves to sleep after those days of training, her powers too worked up and overused, every little thing setting her off, making her flinch and grab the nearest makeshift weapon beside her. The jittery feeling was too akin to caffeine which was exactly the reason she’d forever be repulsed by it. Hyperactivity and uncontrollable twitching were a disaster combination for someone who could tell what was going to happen up to entire minutes before it actually did (if she was focused enough, of course).

“Come on, Nelle. Let’s look for him on the next floor.” Vanya kept her hand on her sister’s back until she had begun up the stairs with her.

“Five? Are you upstairs?” They continued calling for him, moving up onto the first floor to search along the bedroom hallway. It was a reasonable assumption if he’d slept at the academy instead of on the makeshift bed of a couch in Vanya’s apartment.

“Five?”

Still no answer or even rustle of movement that could give away he was there. Although, he could have been ignoring them. Reaching out with the invisible thread-like tendrils, Nelle came to the conclusion that he wasn’t on that floor either. But he was here! As she blinked that clairvoyant sheen over her eyes, she caught glimpses of Five in his room just seconds ahead of them.

“Upstairs.” Nelle felt chuffed with herself for even being able to do such a thing after so long. As Five had said, it had been a while. She was out of practice, but in that youthful mindset, the little girl whose entire life had revolved around her supernatural abilities along with the rest of her siblings (save for Vanya) knew nothing else but her ‘potential’ and so strived for them. She did note that when she tried it a second time just to affirm her claim, it didn’t work quite so well. She merely sensed that Vanya was about to trip up the next step, her hands already braced against her sister’s arm to steady her before she even stumbled.

“Thanks. Sorry, I should have been watching my step.”

“It’s okay, I’m always watching it for you.” It should have sounded creepy to anyone else, even with the given context in full, but Vanya felt flattered and smiled.

They made it to the top of the second flight of stairs and turned towards the open bedroom door that belonged to Five. Standing with his back to the doorway, looking out at the rusted fire escape that was probably unfit with today’s safety standards through the window.

Both of the two women felt themselves deflate in relief, certain they had grown several inches with how much tension had been building in their muscles. Now they were back to their usual height and much more at ease upon finding their brother bearing no fresh wounds. he was even in a fresh set of uniform, void of any of those bloodstains from his previous altercation. Good, that was good.

“Oh, thank God.” Vanya sighed, moving in on Five as he turned to face them.

“We were worried sick about you.” Nelle prompted him, not in a confronting manner that revealed the sliver of anger she felt at his actions, but it was genuine and shaky with the true weight of the worry both sisters had carried with them all the way here.

Their brother had the decency to look somewhat shameful, hands in his pockets as his brows tweaked down in an expression close to sadness. “Sorry I left without saying goodbye.” He dropped his head down partially in submission, an unusual thing for Five.

Nelle hesitated in her step towards him, folding her arms over her chest. She kept her suspicion to herself as Vanya spoke, hanging back as she waited to scrutinise the boy further.

“No, look, I’m the one that should be sorry.” Five had raised his head up at that, closing the distance between the three of them as his green eyes listened to his sister. But they flickered over to Nelle as he tried to discern her creased brows and narrowed pupils. “Yeah, I was dismissive and…and I- I guess I didn’t know how to process what you were saying. And I still can’t to be honest.”

Nelle shifted towards her sister at that. Was she blaming herself for Five running off last night? Her hand flew to rest upon her shoulder, catching her questioning gaze as she shook her head. “It’s not your-“

“Maybe you were right to be dismissive.” Five cut her off, looking between the two women before scoffing to himself and turning away. “Maybe it wasn’t real after all. It felt real.” As if to demonstrate his point, he rested his hand on an old plastic train on his desk, wheeling it back and forth. To an adult’s eye, it was just a toy, any fantasy or games derived from play with it was purely that. But to a child, it could never have been less than real. The engineer that had abandoned the out of control train, the passengers that were panicked and screaming in the cars behind and the deafening crash that killed hundreds on impact – that was all real despite the fabrication. “Well, like you said, the old man did say time travel could contaminate the mind.”

Five walked his way back to them with a bitter smile.

“Then maybe I’m not the right person for you to be talking to.” Vanya said pointedly, her gaze shifting to the corner of her eyes towards their other sister beside her. She sighed softly. “Look, I used to see someone. A therapist. I could give you her information.”

“Thanks, but…I think I’m just gonna get some rest.” He stated, glancing over his shoulder at his waiting bed. It too looked untouched and unslept in and the dark circles beneath his eyes seemed to suggest the same. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good sleep.”

Nelle hissed as if burned under her breath, trying to erase images of Five huddled beneath piles of rubble and debris as he used the ongoing fire from a discarded car seat and a newspaper wrapped around himself to keep warm as his eyes never slid more than halfway shut in case someone were to come across him. He couldn’t let them assume him dead and leave. He couldn’t take that risk. Someone could still be alive out here. His Dad might even come for him; the old man must have had some sort of technology he could use. Anything felt possible in the deepest pit of despair.

Vanya seemed satisfied with his answer and justification, dipping her head. “Okay.” She offered a small smile before heading back out of the room, Nelle following along behind her.

The blonde bit on her lip in preparation of the guilt she would feel after ditching Vanya unexpectedly. She’d explain it to her as soon as she could, but something didn’t sit right with her about Five’s explanation. It was too simple and ‘easy’. Nothing with their brother had ever been so. And he had pressed her about the future, about whether she’d seen it and he had stirred up some forgotten memory, some glimpse of a previous vision and he couldn’t bury that again.

Nelle kept quiet as she watched Vanya head back down the stairs again, apparently assuming she was still behind her. She pressed herself against the wall outside Five’s room, sensing that electricity as she timed when he would be in the doorway, looking out to make sure they had both accepted his words and left. She caught him off guard as she appeared in front of him, causing him to stumble back in surprise, almost falling over his own ankles, but she caught him.

She fixed him with a look of disappointment. “You lied to us. You lied to Vanya and-“

“In my defence, I do trust you both. That wasn’t a lie.” He brushed himself off as she let him go to regain his own balance. “I had something I needed to do, and I couldn’t get you involved if you refused to believe what I was confiding in you.”

“I do believe you.” She insisted, but he was raising his brows at her as if asking for her proof of why. Nelle stammered, swallowing thickly. “You asked if I’d ‘seen’ it, the future and the apocalypse and..”

“And?” His voice was low as he took another step towards her, invested in her answer. She was the only one of their siblings that could actually ‘see’ for themselves what he was talking about.

“And…I do remember something. I don’t know if it really is the future you came back from or whether it is an apocalypse or even in this timeline, but I did _see_ …something.”

Five moved his weight from foot to foot, shaking his head. “And that ‘something’ is enough for you to understand what I mean?”

She thought on it for a moment, nodding. “Yes, but I would still believe you even-“

Suddenly the closet doors behind her opened and she turned with shock to find Klaus clumsily emerging from within the confined space, dropping hangers and other items as he stepped out in a flamboyantly frilly coloured shirt. “That’s so..” his hand was on his heart even as he stepped on something that had an unexpectedly pointy bit that jabbed at the wrong part of his foot. He didn’t seem to mind. “..touching. All that stuff about family and Dad and time. Wow!”

Five didn’t seem too disturbed by his presence much to Nelle’s surprise. He only seemed annoyed that he was talking several octaves louder than the prior conversations. “Would you shut up? She’ll hear you!”

Klaus had a musical note in his voice as he fanned at his eyes, draping himself over Nelle dramatically. “I’m moist.”

Nelle patted her other brother on the back in mock sympathy, trying to wear a smile that wasn’t too fake and didn’t scream ‘what the hell are you doing in here?!’.

Five frowned as he took closer inspection of Klaus’ attire. “I told you to put on something professional.”

Klaus looked down at himself, confused at his brother’s claims that the outfit he was wearing was anything but professional. The note of sadness in his voice shot a wave of pity through Nelle. “What? This is my nicest outfit.”

With a weary sigh and look of incredulity in his eyes that could only manifest from an old man of a different time and generation (despite sharing the man’s exact date and time of birth), the boy turned to head out through the door. “We’ll raid the old man’s closet.”

“As long as I get paid.” Klaus moaned.

“When the job is done.” Five concluded like a stern parent.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Nelle was left standing in the bedroom with questions colouring her face quite a deep shade of mounting confusion. She stood in the doorway, catching the redirected attention of both brothers.

Klaus mouthed something to Five who glowered at him in return, giving a stiff shake of his head, but the man had already taken a hold of Nelle’s hand and pulled her out into the hallway to join them. He hooked his arm through hers and held himself upright.

“See? What do you think, Five? The perfect addition to the family!” His head tilted to rest on her shoulder despite her being a good few inches shorter than her brother.

“Absolutely not! One of you is more than enough, I’m not dragging anyone else into this.” He grumbled to himself, itching where his tie chafed against his neck uncomfortably.

“Wha- then why are you dragging me into this?”

“Wait.”

“Because you’ll say yes as soon as money is concerned and you’re desperate. Admittedly not the best standard of help I require, but better than nothing.” He scratched at the back of his head.

Nelle huffed in aggravation. “What the hell are you two even talking about?”

Five chewed his lips in mulling while Klaus’s face stretched into a wide grin and he gave a round of mini applause. “Yes, yes! It’s too perfect! The mother is isolated from both her father and son, kept on the outer rim as she keeps fighting to-“

“Hey, I already told you to can it. She’s not a part of this.”

Nelle was growing increasingly more annoyed with how much attention Five was refusing to spare her way. “I don’t care what it is you’re up to, just please don’t get either of yourselves killed. We don’t need another untimely Hargreeves funeral where nobody has anything decent to say.”

“Uh, ‘ouch’ much, sis?” Klaus had both hands clutched to his chest as if he’d been fatally wounded. It wasn’t like her to be so grim and sour. Five must have rubbed off on her. Great.

Five sighed as he held his sister’s gaze. He could see that she was itching to get the rest of her overdue words over the edge and across to him, to finally explain everything and apologise and just talk. He had missed just talking, missed the days when they had time to waste just talking. There was no time to waste anymore. “Come on, Klaus.”

“Five!” Neither Klaus nor Nelle moved after him down the hallway, the latter refusing to watch him leave again as he kept her out of the situation and the former far too transfixed on the outcome of said situation.

“Can’t you just trust that why I’m keeping you out of it is for a good reason?” He gritted between his teeth, back turned.

“I thought I could trust that if you needed help, you’d ask for it. Not bribe.”

Klaus jumped in at that, covering her mouth with his ‘HELLO’ hand. “Ah, I wouldn’t go that far, Nelle. Let’s think of the poor soul in need of that money and how he-“

“Alright. Fine.” Klaus’s hand dropped away as the boy turned around, giving a nonchalant shrug as if he wasn’t bothered at all, in the slightest way possible. His voice did lose its sardonic irritation, though, as he spoke his next words to her. “If I asked you for your help in pretending to be my mother in order for me to obtain information on whose glass eye this is, would you say yes?” As he retrieved and held out the prosthetic, she realised he was genuinely testing her, but there was both doubt and hope in his eyes. But both seemed to be favouring she would say ‘no’.

Nelle softened her brows and smiled in earnest. “Yes.” She wanted to say more on the matter, but the moment hung between them calmly and undisturbed.

Five’s lips parted in stupefaction, his eyes darting around in almost a blushing manner. But Five didn’t blush. He was flustered, though. He gave a brisk nod. “Okay, then.” His voice could have been mistaken for an exhale. He pocketed the eye again.

“Yay! Okay, so we need to be clear on the finer details.” Klaus interrupted, a gleam of manic excitement brimming in his eyes. “So, we just gotta go into this place and pretend to be your dear old parents, correct?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” Five replied, still glancing over at Nelle as if he wanted to return to that brief moment they’d shared.

Klaus placed his hands-on Nelle’s shoulders, standing behind her as if they were posing for one of those awkward family Christmas cards and Five was their paid-for-less hired photographer. “So, what’s our cover story?”

“What? What are you talking about?” Five poked in the useless reams the fourth Hargreeves only seemed capable of speaking in.

“I mean, were we really young when we had you? Like, 16? Like, young and..terribly misguided?” Klaus was really falling into the role already, his cheek resting on the top of Nelle’s head as he crossed her arms over her chest like a sarcophagus engraving.

Five seemed bored with the matter, frustrated that they hadn’t even left the manor yet and he still needed answers concerning the eye. “Sure.”

“Your mother.” He lifted his head up from Nelle’s, placing his mouth beside her ear, not too dissimilar to Allison’s own mannerism. “That slut!” He spat in a whisper.

Nelle wore a blasé expression, trying to act as if it was one of the first times she’d been called that name and in that exact tone of disgust, but hidden longing. Klaus should have followed in Allison’s own career path and become an actor, there was talent in his committed devotion. Her flinched stiffness gave away the mask of it and Five noticed.

“And where did we meet…ah! We met at the disco.” Klaus chortled light-heartedly to himself. “Do you remember that night, sweetums?” He took hold of his sister’s waist in the awkward fashion of most teenage boys dancing with a girl for the first time. “The punch was a sickening fuchsia and stuck to the roof of your mouth like peanut butter, but it had such a kick to it after that guy poured his hip flask of whisky into it.” He laughed heartily as if reliving the fake memory. Klaus then pointed a finger at Five as he and Nelle swayed together. “Okay? Remember that.”  
  
Five had become somewhat tense as he watched the scene play out before him, a bizarre fantasy world where his siblings had met as teenagers at a disco and lived ordinarily strange lives that eventually matured into his conception. He had to bring himself back to the current moment, brush off that indiscernible pang of an emotion he couldn’t quite place. It flared as he lingered on Klaus’ hold on Nelle’s waist. Five cleared his throat, brows raised.

“Oh, my God, the sex was _amazing!_ ” Klaus dragged out and emphasised the word, throwing his head back as his eyes followed, pulling Nelle a little closer in a teasing, purely playful motion.

Nelle scoffed aloud, laughing with him as she covered her mouth to prevent an ill-timed snort. “Was it? I don’t recall.” She was shamefully comfortable and casual about discussing such matters with Klaus, someone who didn’t care about anyone’s past times or how they made money. He had been the one to suggest the ‘night-job’ to her in the first place. But she’d slipped up in front of Five.

He couldn’t know how she had lived her life in his lost memory, that she was no longer the sister he had cared for, that she wanted to be for him; untainted, pure and innocent. A perfect child from days they would never get back. As much pain and punishment as their father had put them through, Nelle would always long to be a child again. Adulthood was nothing to envy at any stage.

Her grin faltered and she looked over towards Five whose mouth was shaped in a small oval of pure stun. He must have thought she wasn’t looking his way, however, because it was gone a second later as he looked up again.

“Oh, I think you do, sweetums. Don’t lie, none of those other guys ever compared to me. Not even close to how much-“

“What a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain.” Five declared, successfully ending the ludicrousity before resuming his march down to the old man’s room.

“Hey, don’t make me put you in time-out.” Klaus brandished another pointing finger as he parted from Nelle and followed after the prospect of much-needed ‘money’. Nelle swiftly followed after them.

Apparently Nelle’s own outfit had been deemed ‘unprofessional’ by Five as well (Klaus had given a shake of his head and a proud thumbs up for it), his head was buried deep in the musty tweed-smell of their father’s wardrobe, pulling out and inspecting suit after suit with relative distaste from Klaus who outright refused against anything ‘that garish’.

Nelle had made her way to the store of much more vibrantly coloured and tailored outfits from their mother’s supply of clothing. The choice was either a dress from the ‘40s or ‘50s US fashion. And even then, every dress reached past the knee and none lacked a bold colour choice and set of matching heels. She felt much like Five as he’d realised his own clothing options yesterday.

“Did you need help finding something, dear?” The airy chime of ‘Mom’s voice startled her as she had been too invested in her search through the limited clothing choices hidden away in the unused cupboards in the laundry room. Only ‘Mom’ ever went in here, so it made sense for her clothes to be stored there.

Nelle turned to find her grinning pearly whites, head inclined towards her politely and patiently. Unblinking. “Mom, I was…I need your help in choosing an outfit to wear. I thought wearing something of yours would-“

“Oh, sweetie. You look wonderful as you are. We can play dress-up later.” She moved to close the doors, but Nelle stopped her, looking pleadingly into her optics.

“Please, Mom. It’s important.”

The toothy grin shrank to a tight-lipped but forgiving smile. “Alright, Nelle. It must be quite the occasion for you to need my help in getting gussied up. A nice young man, I presume. Nothing less for a Hargreeves, but it’s perfectly acceptable to want for more.” She recited easily, ushering her gently into the dressing room of the late Reginald Hargreeves. The two boys could still be heard next door, rummaging around and arguing about whether a tie was needed or not and that he ‘couldn’t wear those shoes’ and ‘bare feet would be more acceptable’. That point was quickly withdrawn as the other voice insisted defiantly that he would ‘go without shoes, then’.

“Sit down in front of this mirror, I’ll get a couple of outfit choices for you.” Nelle saw that her mother had set up a chair in front of the body-length mirror in the corner of the room as a makeshift vanity, dusting off the cushion as she gestured to it. Once she was seated, ‘Mom’ smiled and left with a clicking of her heels. How had she not heard them when she’d crept up on her?

Nelle fidgeted, scrutinising her face in the mirror. She could pass as Five’s mother, right? Maybe he hadn’t inherited her eyes or her hair colour or..anything, really, but she only had to look like _a_ mother, not necessarily _his_. Klaus could pass with some biological relation to him at least. She would need to adjust her hairstyle for the particular type of fashion their mother wore. Some makeup would definitely be required as well, although she was doubtful to how much her mother even had in her possession, being a robot. Those red lips could simply be as a result of the plastic used in crafting her facial features.

“Now, how about these fine garments? You’re bound to look stunning in all of them, but let’s get them on you and see you feel first.” Nelle watched the reflection in the mirror as her mother returned, hanging up the five dresses she’d brought with her on the coat rail along the wall and closing the door to ensure none of her brothers walked in unexpectedly.

The third dress was a bold mustard yellow. No pattern, but three heart-shaped buttons that did up the bodice and a bow that tied around the waist. It was naturally a ‘50s garment, the skirt flared out in a wide display around her shins.

“Well, what do you think, Nelle?” The blonde female stood behind her, hands flattening out the collar and adjusting the short cups of the sleeves over her shoulders.

“I’m not too sure. I don’t think yellow likes me.”

Her mother tutted. “Nonsense! See how it brings out the blue in your eyes, tempting onlookers to the seaside that you call them to?”

Nelle’s lashes fluttered in response, awestruck that her mother had such sophisticated programming that could bring a blush to her cheeks. Her mother held up her chin with her hand, smiling at her proudly.

“Yellow loves you.”

“Mom-“

No knock sounded at the door, the boy just walked right in. “Let’s see if there’s any in here.”

“You’ve already forced me into a heinous pair of slacks, are you really gonna put cuff-links on me too?”

“Boys!” The mechanical woman strode over to corner them both as they entered without warning. “It is impolite to intrude on a lady when she’s dressing. And I’ve told you before to always knock on a closed door.” There was no real anger or reprimand in her voice, that was always reserved for Reginald. She simple smiled sweetly, clasped hands held in front of her as she gave them a small telling-off.

The two brothers looked to each other and then around their mother to see their blonde sister standing in front of a mirror, height elevated with dark brown heels, body awash with yellow fabric. She looked the very clone of their mother, eyes meeting theirs in the reflection. Her hair had been curled around to give an air of Marilyn and her lips were stained with that same rose red as their mother’s.

“Well, look-ee here! A domestic housewife! Oh, this works beautifully.” Klaus tried to step over the threshold to embrace her, but their mother stepped between them, smile a little tauter now. He continued on his ramble nonetheless. “Yes, we got married as soon as we found out you were pregnant, our parents kicked us out and we mooched off of my dead-beat uncle until he just didn’t come home one night, so we claimed the place for ourselves! Yay, us! And we gave our little boy the best chance at life we could, but our marriage fell apart pretty quickly. I was between jobs and you were seeing other men, but you stayed to give our son an easier life of parents that lived under the same roof. I come home drunk off my ass most of the time and you suffer the receiving end of it just to protect our son. Ah, it’s tragic really, but some of my finest stuff, truly.”

Nelle had listened in silence to his waffle about their ‘cover-story’, trying to put herself in the right mind-set for it as she returned her gaze to herself in the mirror, wondering if she looked passable as the suffering housewife and mother Klaus had painted of her.

Five used his reliable method of getting past obstacles and blinked to the other side of their mother, standing beside Nelle. He looked over the flattering, yet old-fashioned dress she wore, eyed the heels she seemed too comfortable wearing for someone who still preferred Velcro over laces at the age of 30.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. When I was asking, I didn’t-“

“Hey, I said ‘yes’, and I meant it. I still do.” She looked at him face-to-face instead of through the mirror, smiling.

Five was expecting to be unnerved at the foreign shade of red her lips were, stretching over her teeth the same way their mother’s did. But it looked natural and she wore it well. He still preferred her without the makeup for she didn’t need it, but in this scenario it couldn’t hurt.

“Right, boys. Out. Now. We still need to-“

“It’s alright, Mom. I think I’m good to go.” Nelle reassured her as she began pushing Klaus out through the door, looking over her shoulder pointedly at Five.

“Okay.” As if she had only walked in to ask how she was doing and hadn’t been helping her doll herself up, she left through the door and went back to her dusting duties.

“Come on, we’ve killed enough unnecessary time as it is.” Five headed off out the door, gesturing at Nelle as he turned down the other end to their mother, heading down the main stairs.

“I hope you appreciate how lucky you are to have such attractive parents, little man. We put in all this effort to look pretty for you and-“

Five turned sharply towards Klaus. “Don’t call me that.” He glared meaningfully. “Or you can forget your money.”

Klaus rolled his eyes but followed after him obediently. “About that, since Nelle’s against the whole ‘bribing’ thing, I should get her share, right? I’ll gladly take that off your hands, little-“

Five stopped him as he gave a harsh budge to the front door, letting it swing out dangerously, a crack splitting the glass as it whacked against the stone foundations of the building. He jabbed his thumb out the door.

“Think it might be close to someone’s nap-time..” Klaus murmured as he headed out through the door in his black suited attire. He’d managed to escape the noose of the tie, at least, and despite it being an expensive suit any upper class-man would have gladly worn, he still made it look scruffy in his own way. He was smugly pleased with himself at that fact.

Nelle thanked Five for holding the door on her way out, but he stopped her for a second.

“Wait, Nelle.” She nodded, looking down at him from the lofty height her heels had given her. She was grateful to at least have taken one of the steps down. “Thank you for agreeing to do this. You don’t know why this is important and I never even offered you any kind of payment, but you’re still blindly going through with this.”

“Of course. You’re my brother, Five.”

He chuckled cynically. “Would you have done the same for Luther? For Diego?”

Her head fell. “That’s different.”

“It’s not by your reasoning.”

“Five, if I can trust your reasons, can’t you trust mine?”

He didn’t get a chance to answer as Klaus hollered at them from the street. “Hey, are we going or what?!”

He looked back at Nelle, clearly in some state of exasperation with how little of what he wanted to discuss with her actually being voiced. There was still that promise of a café she had mentioned...

“Do I have time to go and put my underwear on because I really underestimated how much chafing these pants were capable of?”

“No!” Five snapped his attention back to the pressing task at hand. “Enough dawdling, we need to get a move on.”

* * *

Vanya had made it back down the stairs, sighing away to herself as she mumbled under her breath. She hoped Nelle didn’t mind, but she was being rather quiet behind her as well. She’d apologise if she brought it up, though.

She reached the final flight of stairs down to the ground floor. “At least we know he’s alright. He can’t get into much trouble as long as he’s here.” There was no reply and it seemed odd to not even hear a noise of agreement. She frowned, looking over her shoulder. “Nelle?” She was gone. Vanya felt a prickle of cold run over her and she started back up the stairs again. “Nelle, are you-?”

“Patrick, it was my father’s funeral! I’m pretty sure the court recognises that as ‘extenuating circumstances’.”

It was Allison’s voice. She must have been using the phone in the downstairs hallway. By the waver in her voice and the blanketed hush she had wrapped around her words, she was resisting the urge to yell.

Vanya began walking back down again, slowly and carefully so as not to disturb the phone call. She could sneak past undetected; Allison would probably ignore her anyway. And where was Nelle? Why had she just left her without any explanation? It had to be something to do with Five. She pushed aside the nasty nibble of being excluded. But Allison; she felt as though she owed some comfort now that she’d heard part of her distressed phone call.

“Is Claire there?” Allison let out a shaky breath. “Yes, I would like to say hello to my daughter if that’s alright with you.”

Vanya came to an awkward stop at the bottom of the stairs, her gaze lingering on her sister as she fidgeted with her hands.

“No.” Her voice broke. “Patrick! Don’t—” The call disconnected, and Vanya could hear the dull tone ring out. Allison sighed and hung up the phone on its rack, still holding onto the neck of it as though it would ring again, and Claire would be waiting to speak to her.

Vanya pocketed her hands to keep them from fidgeting about restlessly and she moved towards her sister. “Are you okay?”

Not entirely upset about hearing her voice behind her, Allison gave a reply. She needed to talk about it with someone, it was just a convenience to have Vanya ask her how she felt immediately after the stressful phone call. “Yeah.” She attempted to steel herself, turning towards her.

“Well, I’ve never met your ex-husband, but…he sounds like an asshole.” Vanya came to a stop a few metres short of her.

Allison was glaring at the phone as she muttered darkly. “That’s one word for it.”

“You know what? You’re probably better off here.” She attempted to console her.

“No, I’m probably better off with my daughter.” Allison was rubbed the wrong way. It wasn’t what she’d needed to hear at all, but Vanya was still so unused to it. She tried not to direct her anger on her, but it was hard when it was still so fresh.

“Of course, um…I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“You know, if I wanted advice, Vanya, no offense, it wouldn’t be from you.”

The shorter brunette rocked back on her heels, a hurt silence falling over her as she squeaked out a retort. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t have a child. You’ve never even been in a relationship.” Her sister gestured frantically in exasperation at her, clearly stunned in disbelief she was even having this conversation with her.

“That’s not true.” Vanya mumbled.

“So, you know what it’s like to love someone like this? Like, when you’re apart from her, you can’t breathe. Like, you would- you would die, and I- I mean actually…die.” There were tears sparkling in Allison’s eyes that couldn’t be compared to her greatest performance. “Just to know that she’s okay and happy.”

Her sister lowered her head down to inspect the floor beneath her feet, hoping it would open up and remove her from the room entirely. She felt dumb.

“You separate yourself from everyone and everything. You always have.”

Allison’s words spiced the old wounds with salt, and it ignited sparks of fury. “Because Dad made me.” It was the best bout of fury she could conjure against her sister’s stabs. She wasn’t looking to start an argument, but she felt she needed to defend herself.

Allison scoffed. “Did Dad make you write that book about us, too?” With no answer to give, Vanya shrank all the way down as her sister brushed her way past her, hand resting on the staircase’s rail. “You’re an adult now, Vanya. You don’t get to blame your problems on anyone but yourself.” She turned with a disapproving scowl and left in a sweep of her long cardigan, heading through the archway of a further room.

Vanya was crestfallen. And empty.

* * *

“Like I said to your son earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential. Without the client’s consent, I simply can’t help you.”

Leaning over the desk, Five re-emphasised his point. “Well, we can’t get consent if you don’t give us a name.” He could be quite vicious when he tried to be. Unassuming as a little pug, but he was definitely part wolf.

“Well, that’s not my problem.” The same doctor concluded, pleased with himself. But he hadn’t shed that look of mixed concern and curiosity at why the boy had seen fit to not only drag his ‘Addams Family-esque’ father down to the clinic on the same rampant matter, but also his sickly-sweet smiling mother. She looked like a sunflower without the sun and the rain; wilting even as she sat perfectly upright in the chair on the other side of their son in between them. They didn’t look like the perfect match as a couple; like sunshine and a storm. Except he wasn’t exactly sure which was which.

But as if she’d received the smallest ray of sunshine, the blonde woman unfurled and shifted from her perfectly held position, turning towards him. The man wasn’t even aware she was moving at all until he realised her red lips had stretched a little wider; blood parting its tidal flow to reveal the white bone beneath. He felt uneasy under her prominent gaze, the ice shards that spat forth didn’t melt fast enough and he felt their painful pricks against his crawling skin.

Her head tilted to the side as she glanced between the doctor and her ‘son’ with a soft sigh that could have barely affected even the corner of a piece of paper. “Sir, I’ve had my fair share of experiences with…men.” She mouthed the word in a forbidden whisper, eyes darting to her seated ‘husband’. She looked back to him with a brightness in her blue shallows. “I know you’re caught between the principles of what your job asks of you and being the kind man you are beyond that.”

“Ma’am, I’m not sure what you’re implying, but I’ve told you already that it’s against-“

“And my son is such a precious thing. He’s full of brains that are just teeming inside his little skull; too smart for his own good.” The blonde spoke as if he wasn’t even in the room, as if it was just her and the doctor. “I only want the best for him and this is something important to him, for his education. A little project thing they’ve given them all, but he’s exceeded so well already and he’s going the extra mile, bless him.” She gushed, hand falling to her chest as if to keep her fluttering heart contained. Her eyes rounded with a glimmer of sadness and pleading, hand moving across the desk to take hold of his hand.

The man stiffened at the unexpected motion, the other onlookers in the room equally as frozen and unsure.

“You’d do that for me, wouldn’t you, sir? Help a mother who only wants the best for her son? He’s my only boy, my only child.” A tear shimmered in the corner of her eye as she leaned further forwards. A foot against her shin stopped her from going any further and her hand tightened around the doctor’s out of surprise. It was enough to snap him out of that stupor she’d lulled him into and he retracted his hands from the desk and into his lap, shaking his head.

“Sorry. Now there’s really nothing more I can do, so—”

“And what about _my_ consent?”

All three of the other heads slowly swivelled round to focus on Klaus who had piped up all of a sudden with a heart wrenching look in his eyes. The doctor was befuddled, Five was close to admitting defeat for the second time in a row now with a vexed squint in his frown and Nelle was still smiling, ensuring she blinked thrice in a row every so often. She had become quite the spitting image of their own robotic mother in her newly established role. It felt eerily natural.

“Excuse me?” The middle-aged doctor queried. His patience was quite staggering so far with this family and their odd rambles and this obsession with a lost glass eye.

“Who gave you permission…to lay your hands-“ He broke off for a moment, a small sob taking over as he raised a finger to gesture at Five. “-on my son?”

“What?” Both the doctor and the boy questioned aloud.

“You heard me.”

Nelle giggled to herself under her breath. “You’ll have to forgive my husband, sir.” She leaned forwards, hand slanting over her mouth as she spoke in a loud whisper. “He’s having an outburst.” She was smiling widely, in that same manner Grace always did.

The doctor gave a slow nod. It was safe to conclude that all three definitely lived under the same roof with the nonsense they were spouting. He gave an awkward cough, shifting in his seat. “I didn’t touch your son.”

“Oh, really?” Klaus seemed intrigued by the rebuttal, sitting up from his leaned back, cross-legged position. “Well, then how did he get that swollen lip, then?” He had pushed himself from his seat as he stood.

“He doesn’t have a swollen—”

Suddenly a harsh slap came down hard across Five’s face as his ‘father’ dealt him a nasty blow. The boy grunted from the impact, touching sensitively at the split on his lip that was bleeding slightly. He was scowling at the back of him, clearly irritated with the change of plan. Nelle tried her best not to act fazed by what she hadn’t _seen_ coming, too involved in this character. To think of it, such dedication wasn’t exactly required for this, but it felt like a weird relief to be someone else for once.

“I want it. Name please. Now.” Klaus’ turn to lean over the desk, the height making for a much more intimidating stance, paired nicely with the manic look in the man’s eyes.

Nelle, acting as mother, stood out of her chair and retrieved her usual handkerchief. Five glanced up at her curiously as her hand moved to cup his chin, startled to find such a similar gleam in her blue eyes to the artificial ones of their ‘Mom’. He let her take a gentle hold of it as she dabbed at his cut gently with the fabric, humming under her breath for a moment. “My stubborn boy. Always getting into scrapes and scuffles.” She mused away idly, seemingly oblivious to the way his ‘father’ had assaulted him.

The doctor looked between both the ditzy mother and the possibly drug-influenced father. He could have just been mentally ill. Probably best to assume both. “Y-you’re crazy.”

Klaus chuckled. “You got no idea.” His gaze drifted down to the snow-globe on his desk. It had a rather adorable plastic model of the Earth in cheery shades of bright blue and a fruity green. It had a banner wrapped around it which Klaus happily read out. “’Peace on Earth’. That’s so sweet.” He then rammed the glass sphere straight into his forehead, creating a loud smashing echo coupled with some pained groans.

Five shifted his head slightly from his ‘mother’s hold to watch the frightening scene unfold, eyes wide. This he hadn’t expected. Nelle brought his chin back to face her.

“Don’t bother your father while he’s working, honey.” She used the same tone Grace had used when telling them off for walking in earlier. Five almost gave up her act as he scoffed to himself, wincing as it stung at his fresh cut.

Klaus was now bleeding from the self-inflicted wound on his head, a few sparkles along the lapels of his pinstriped suit. “God, that hurt!”

The doctor didn’t hesitate to reach for the phone, hastily dialling the frequent number as fast as he could. “I’m calling secur—” Klaus wrestled the receiver from him. “What are you doing?”

“There’s been an assault in Mr. Big’s office, and we need security, now. Schnell!” Klaus dropped the phone down, letting it clatter noisily against the handset as he sighed in satisfaction of having the upper hand and control of the situation.

He shook out his now wet and rather sticky dark locks, coming to stand by his ‘wife’. He pried her hands away from Five’s face and held her by the shoulders, facing her and taking hold of both her hands. “Oh, my gorgeous, lovely…slut of a wife.” He clicked his tongue. “Oh, how you don’t deserve me. Or this.” Klaus back-handed her across the face.

Five flinched at the impact, moving to intervene before he remembered his place and stayed put, fists clenched by his side.

Nelle still held a smile to her face, reaching a hand up to soothe the reddened skin. Her cheek was wet. She was crying. Not sobbing, it hadn’t really hurt that much at all (she’d had worse), but streams of tears were pouring down as they always did. It couldn’t do much harm given the already chaotic situation they were all in.

Klaus’ eyes drifted over to the man who was still seated, likely due to having pissed his pants. “Now, here’s what’s gonna happen, Grant.”

“It’s…Lance.” He tried to correct, but it was hard with no air in his lungs.

“In about 60 seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door, and they’re gonna see a whole lot of blood, and they’re gonna wonder, ‘what the hell happened?’. And we’re gonna tell them that _you_ beat the shit out of us.” He sobbed dramatically, grinning.

Five had inched towards Nelle, just close enough to brush his foot along hers, a harder thing to do given the slant of her foot in heels. But she noticed and mirrored the action back to him as he smiled to himself, nodding proudly at Klaus’ antics. This might actually work after all.

“You’re gonna do great in prison, Grant. Trust me, I’ve been there. Little piece of chicken like you. Oh, my God, you’re gonna get passed around like a…” He gave a twirling motion of his hips before amending himself. “You’re just- you’re gonna do great. That’s all I’m saying.”

The doctor (Lance) looked between the family; the bruised mother crying with a pleasant beam, the insane son with a freshly split lip and a look of triumph on his face and the psychopathic father with one hell of a slap and some clearly underlying issues he needed to deal with sooner rather than later. It might be too late already. “Jesus, you are a real sick bastard.”

Klaus bowed his head. “Thank you.” He then spat out a few sparkles and shards of glass that had stuck to his lip.

* * *

Finally at the file cabinet, Lance was sifting through the confidential information under the watchful eye of all three mental family members. Klaus gave him a grin as he looked up. He returned his gaze to the open file, scanning through it before a frown took over. “Oh, that’s strange.”

“What?” Five pressed.

“Uh, the eye. It hasn’t been purchased by a client yet.”

Klaus dropped down from his aloof seated position up on top of the cabinet, looking over Lance’s shoulder. “What? What do you mean?”

Nelle’s tears had dried up by now, but Five kept his hand hovering near hers behind the cover of the cabinet. She was still smiling, and it was beginning to unsettle him. She had normally only one smile that she wore as wide as that and it had been reserved for him-

“Well, uh, our logs say that the eye with that serial number…” Lance paused, shifting uncomfortably with Klaus moving too close up against him. “This can’t be right. It hasn’t even been manufactured yet.” He was clearly stunned at such an impossible fact. “Where did you get that eye?”

Five growled under his breath. He’d need much more than a stiff one after this.

* * *

“Well, this is not good.”

“I was pretty good, though, right?” Klaus was eager, renacting the scene. “’Yeah. What about _my_ consent, bitch?’” He laughed with all the hysteria of a hyena, skipping joyously down the steps with the foreign excitement of being ‘important’ and ‘useful’ to someone.

“Klaus, it doesn’t matter.” Five had an astonishingly powerful dose of poison in his young green eyes, shaking stiffly, fists still clenched as the image of Klaus slapping Nelle across the face kept replaying over and over again. He couldn’t get it to stop. This was exactly why he didn’t want to bring her.

“What? What? What’s the big deal with this eye, anyway?” Klaus snorted.

Nelle had descended down the steps along behind them, arms folded as she kept her eyes trained on Five. The eye had been something important to him. It was related to the apocalypse in some shape or form and now it had proven to be a dead end. She was worried about what toll this would take on him; a man deprived of the primary goal in his mission.

“There is someone out there who’s going to lose an eye in the next seven days. They’re gonna bring about the end of life on this Earth as we know it.” He sighed heavily, needing to sit down after all that malarky.

Klaus thought on that for all but 3 seconds before veering swiftly back to more important matters. “Yeah, can I get that 20 bucks, like, now, or what?”

Nelle pinched at the bridge of her nose, still subconsciously rubbing at the soreness on her cheek. It was weird coming out of character. She felt as though she’d been someone, as if she had a given purpose and now she was limp and void of anything. Her feet had started to ache in the heels as well, meant for plastic feet, not supple flesh. She leaned down to take them off, relieved to feel the cold pavement beneath her bare feet. She then moved to sit down on the stairs, rubbing at her aching arches.

The boys were still at it. “Your 20 bucks?”

“Yeah, my 20 bucks. Unless you’re willing to cough up that little extra from Nelle’s involvement—”

“The apocalypse is coming and all you can think about is getting high?” Five was actually in awe of this. Could no one comprehend the gravity of this?! The fact that tomorrow wouldn’t even matter in just over a week?

“Well, I’m also quite hungry.” Klaus smiled, hands placed affectionately on his stomach. “Tummy’s a-rumblin’.” He waggled his fingers as he imitated it grumbling in hunger.

Five shook his head in disbelief. “You’re useless. You’re all useless!” He spat; the 58-year old in him needing that seat now. He found it in the stone stairs, next to his sister.

“Oh, come on! You need to lighten up, old man.” Klaus pouted.

The boy got himself comfortable, eyeing the redness and developing bruise on Nelle’s cheek. “I didn’t realise you’d throw yourself into it like that.” He stated with a shrug. “Why did you let that happen? You could have—”

“I couldn’t. I was too…distracted.” She mumbled.

“You seemed to become a mother quite easily. Could have fooled me into thinking Grace was actually there with us.”

Nelle ran a hand through her ruffled ‘styled’ hair, ruining it further. “I’m not your mother. It was weird. Please don’t ever bring it up again.” It was supposed to be a sincere request, but she chuckled halfway through it and Five smiled, scoffing slightly with her.

“Okay, then.” He was ready to say more, but Klaus had the look of a revelation on his face.

“Hey, you know, I’ve just now realised why you’re so uptight. You must be horny as hell!” He chortled as he joined his siblings, sandwiching Five between him and Nelle. “All those years by yourself.”

Nelle held a warning in her eyes as she raised her head up at him. “Klaus, stop.”

“No, seriously! It’s gotta screw with your head, being alone. Come on, Nelle. I know you were having issues before I opened you up to your lovely little 'night-time activities'.” He grinned with a wink.

The blonde woman stammered wordlessly; thankful her blush was practically invisible against her red cheek. She could feel Five’s gaze on her, but she couldn’t meet it. He seemingly dismissed the matter and answered Klaus’ question instead.

“Well…” Five’s voice had dropped down like it had last night when he’d confessed every struggling detail of his lone survival in a desolate world. “I wasn’t alone.”

Klaus, intrigued at that fact, inclined towards him. Nelle supposed he would divulge more about his intermittently brought-up companion; this ‘Delores’. She too was rather curious. It conflicted with his story of him being the only living person, but perhaps he had found someone else after all; that he hadn’t been so lonely. Her head fell as she recalled exactly how much it was her fault. How she’d pushed him and-

“Oh? Pray tell.” Klaus prodded.

“Her name was Delores. We were together for over 30 years.” He mused, a shadow of a nostalgic smile casting over his normally darkened features.

“Thirty years? Oh, wow!” Klaus was genuinely invested in the conversation, eyes wide as he thought back on his own relationships. “God, the longest I’ve been with someone was…I don’t know, three weeks. And that’s only because I was so tired of looking for a place to sleep.” He was distantly looking off as he recounted the vague memories.

Five, unsure as to why he had even stuck around with Klaus longer than he had to, gave a once-over at his sister before taking hold of her wrist and blinking them both away at once in a muted ‘fwoom’.

“He did make the most fantastic _osso bucco_ , though. It was…” He turned to share the story with his two siblings only to find both of them had up and left. He frowned. “Five? Nelle?”

The two siblings appeared inside of a moving taxi, startling the driver as he did a double-take in the rear-view mirror.

“Don’t stop. Just keep going.” Five reassured the driver, although he didn’t look very ‘reassured’.

Nelle had a spinning headache and a lurching stomach. It had been a long time since she had jumped somewhere with Five. She felt like her organs had been crudely rearranged in alphabetical order, starting from in her skull all the way down into her pinkie toes. She groaned, holding her head. “Urgh...”

“You’re alright, it’ll wear off. Sorry for the lack of warning.” Five rubbed over her back, moving up to the window as they passed by the clinic with a salute to their brother.

Klaus’ offended shouting could be heard. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, what about my money?!”

Nelle shot up at that, regrettably fast, but she peered over to find that they had indeed left behind Klaus and they were apparently inside a moving vehicle. “What…what’s going on? Did you just ditch Klaus?”

“He’ll get over it.”

The blonde shook her head. “Five.” She moaned in disapproval, massaging her pounding temples. “I need a glass of water.”

“Don’t worry. You can have one soon.”

“Where are we going?” She raised her head again to meet his eyes.

“You still owe me that talk in a café.” He leaned forwards, pointing down the street for the driver. “Here’s fine.”


	5. Chapter 4: Older Passions, Recent Vices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long! I've been trying to find the time to work on it and actually get it up. It's a long one. Anyway, hope you're enjoying it so far! :3

**9 th November 2002—**

_(17 years ago; yes, we’re having another contextual flashback)_

_There was never usually anything special or particularly interesting about a Saturday to the Hargreeves children. Days were just days; they had names so they could be kept track of and always followed another in a sequential order that never changed, much like the children themselves. Saturdays started just as early and ended just as late with training regimes and mealtimes in their exact and proper place. And yet where there is a template and a set, specific way of how things should be done and when, there is the temptation to do the exact opposite. To do the very things that one is told not to. And children are particularly susceptible to this temptation, too easily swayed into the lull of excitement and difference with no regards to the consequences that could arise. At least not in those minutes. They had stolen those minutes for their own and they now belonged to them alone._

_Both the fifth and eighth of the Hargreeves children were winding themselves up the top staircase to the attic-space, steps careful and light against the aged wood, breath reserved only for breathing softly during their ascent instead of risking being caught with their words. They never took the same path twice, at least not consecutively, and so there were always different precautions to take. They were skipping out on a weekly session of ‘Homer’, having slipped away during the altercation in which Klaus had been burning the pages of his own copy with his smuggled lighter. Nelle was still grinning every other moment she thought back on it as their father had leapt forth and thrown the book to the ground, stamping on it repeatedly in quite a manic display._

_A touch on her arm brought her gaze to her brother who was pointing at the ceiling covering that led up to the attic. Upon capturing her attention successfully, he dropped his stance down a bit to balance himself out better, clasping his hands together. She knew this manoeuvre too well by now and with their countless times of practice, she placed her foot into his waiting hold and stood herself up into him. He muffled a strained groan into his shoulder as she fiddled with the tied rope, eventually managing to tug it free from where it had caught last time and giving it a tug._

_The panel unfolded neatly, bearing the carved ladder on its inner side to them as it swung down. Nelle dropped down from her brother’s brace and nodded for him to head up first as she checked around them. No one would think they’d even made it up here, she wasn’t even sure if they’d noticed their absence yet. They’d need to be back before dinner at least when they would definitely be missing from the scene._

_No resounding footsteps, no demanding call of their numbers, just the slight squeak of unoiled hinges as Five slid the ladder down to its lower steps. During their first attempts of this, he had simply blinked up into the attic-space and lowered the ladder down for her or even taken her with him, but he had since wanted to reserve every ounce of his energy for their secret ‘training’ together._

_Nelle waited for Five to tap against the ladder as he always did to reassure her that he was up before she turned her back from her watch and climbed up after him. They brought the ladder back up along with the ceiling panel and turned to each other with a triumphant look of glee._

_“Nicely done.” Five commended. They always waited until the panel was sealed before they spoke. Just in case. “Alright, let’s get started.”_

_Nelle shrugged out of her blazer as she watched her brother do the same, setting it aside on some old crates nearby. It was a common gathering for them by now. Their father permitted merged training, to witness how Number Eight’s powers could influence those of her siblings. Five had been especially keen when he discovered that his sister could enable him to jump to a specific point in time, at least theoretically. In his mind. At the moment, she could only manage to project him seconds forward after she’d sensed an action that would happen in the near future, such as a thug about to fire a gun at one of them during a mission. It had opened up an entire world of possibilities. Five wanted to jump across time just as he could across space and Nelle could help him prove to their father that he was ready. They’d been getting better and today he planned to jump further than he ever had before, to bring back evidence of his abilities and wave it freely in Sir Hargreeves’ face when he denied him again the capability to time travel._

_“Alright, let’s go through the basic warm-ups first and build up to a further jump.” Five shook out his shoulders, giving stretches here and there._

_Nelle was polar and static. The blonde girl hadn’t said a word yet and she was looking elsewhere._

_“Nelle? You still here?” Her brother teased, a smirk forming on his face. It was increasingly more difficult to snuff his excitement and long-awaited anticipation for this. He was ready._

_“Sorry.” She squeaked, coughing awkwardly as she brought her fingertips up to massage her temples and roll over the eyeballs behind her closed lids, preparing that layer of clairvoyance to tap into. When she opened her eyes again, blinking them around and widening them testingly, she noticed Five was stood much closer, less than a metre as he shook out his hands and took deep breaths._

_“Okay, you ready?”_

_Nelle was hesitant, but she could see the gleam in his green eyes, the twitching smile on his mouth. “Yes.” She offered in a small voice before turning her palms up towards him. He placed his hands in hers automatically. “Just a few seconds to begin with.” She murmured, mostly to herself because Five seemed impatient and eager to get the warm-up over with so he could get to the bigger jumps._

_Her blue eyes took on an opalescent sheen as she reached out into that stretching abyss of the unstoppable future, trying to find a grasp on an event, something that she could tie him to. He needed an anchor and she had to find it for him. The crates that held her blazer, the boarded windows that leaked ancient dust, the mouse that scuttled back into its hole in the corner, the breeze that shuddered past the manor and brushed its haul of autumn leaves against the musty glass panes behind the boards and nails._

_Nelle’s breath caught as she took that event, watched it slow down in her ‘vision’ until she timed the exact moment in the next few seconds when the corner of the brown, crackled leaf would scratch its way ever so slightly along the glass. Her lips parted as she chose the moment, already feeling the electric buzz from Five’s palms tingling against her own as he waited for her signal to jump. She chose the door, he just had to open it._

_“Go.”_

_And he was gone. Her hands were empty. She hated the first few trials of this, scared she had done it wrong and got him stuck somewhere he shouldn’t be, somewhere too far forwards. But he always reappeared in a matter of seconds in his usual flash of blue and tell-tale ‘fwoom’. And there he stood by the window, the breeze rattling by soundlessly._

_Five normally smiled at that point, cracked a laugh of disbelief or even came up and hugged her out of pure joy and ecstasy in that moment, but he was antsy and itching. “How long was that?”_

_Nelle had been counting. She always counted out of habit, too scared not to. In case she needed that information to pinpoint his moment in the future and try and help him somehow, reach out to him and try and find an anchor to bring him back, but she could only go forwards. She couldn’t see anything that had already happened from her current point in time unless she’d already envisioned it before it had._

_“Uh, 3 and a half seconds? So we should probably shift to 6 seconds now and then try 9 like we usually-“_

_“No, that’s too slow. We’ve been through these practices before and so far, we’ve only managed up to 30 seconds in the future.” Five stated, scratching at the back of his head in a huff before he flexed out his knuckles with a crack. “We need to increase the jumps or we’ll never make any progress!”_

_Nelle flinched slightly at his interruption, shoulders bunching up as she stayed taut and wary. She swallowed to moisten her dry mouth. “But our technique has been working. It’s been a security to make sure we do this safely, Five. It…it’s bad enough doing it without Dad’s supervision and guidance because he—"_

_“Dad would never even let us scratch the surface of what we’re trying to achieve!” Five exclaimed, his hands out wide and splayed. Nelle went quiet. She wished she could have followed that mouse back into its burrow._

_“H-he knows our powers and how to—”_

_“They’re_ our _powers, Nelle! The old man knows nothing about what it’s like to have that inside of him and yet be constantly denied and bullied about it.” He shook his head, commanding quite a presence even at the distance he was from her, still standing by the window as if expecting her to come to him. “We’ve been doing just fine so far and I’m not about to let this slip away, not when we’re this close!”_

_Nelle felt it ball up inside of her, everything she wanted to say in rebuttal, as retaliation, forming its way into just how he’d told her to handle it. She straightened up and creased her brows, eyes narrowing defiantly as she took a step towards him in a determined stance. “You mean when ‘you’re’ this close.” She steadied her quickening breathing. “You’re so set on jumping into the future and you’re relying on me to get you there. What if I can’t?”_

_Five was unclenching and clenching his fists rapidly, undecidedly. “That’s the thing, Nelle. You know you can. You think just because you haven’t yet that makes it impossible.” His voice was lower now but lingered with underlying rage. He stalked towards her slowly, matching her stance. The stance that he had taught her. It almost stopped him, reminded him of which sibling he was talking to. How he cared for her and wanted her to succeed in extending her powers as he was trying to do so, how he helped her to defend herself, to keep standing her ground even if she did cry._

_“I need you to push yourself.” As she shook her head, he gritted his teeth. “I’m not asking you, Nelle! This is important! Don’t take Dad’s side and pretend that this is fair!”_

_“Five, please. I promise we can push further, but I can’t—"_

_“Just a year ahead.”_

_“What?! No.”_

_“It’s already inside your head, I just need you to find it.” He reached for her hands, but she pulled back and shook her head more insistently._

_“It’s dangerous. I don’t know if I can even ‘see’ that far into the future; you could get lost or stranded and—"_

_“You only have to do half of the journey!”_

_“I’m sorry. I can’t take that risk, Five. Please—”_

 _“You’re just like him! You don’t_ listen _, you think of every excuse and use it against me as if that could work! As if you could really tell me what to do and why! Stuck like this…you have NO IDEA what it’s like!”_

_Her brother’s shouting fit had finally broken her apart. Her tears were splashing in mini puddles of rain at her feet, on her shoes, down her face and onto the collar of her shirt. She stumbled back, breath catching, heart numb and dead between her quaking lungs. She fled, forgetting her blazer in her haste and throwing the hatch open as she dropped down and refused to look back. How could she stand her ground when it had been dragged out from under her feet completely?_

_Five had tensed at the sight of her tears. He had never made her cry. He had secretly prided himself on that fact; the only Hargreeves to never bring her to tears. It had stunned him out of his anger. Anger that hadn’t even been meant for her. Each of those words had been building up against his father, growing stronger at each new repression he enforced upon his wish to time-travel and use that ‘potential’ he never shut up about._

_“N-nelle…” He shivered involuntarily, grabbing both of their blazers in a split-second decision before dropping down after her. He searched down every hall, peered into every room, but it was futile. She would see him coming and simply move before he even got close to finding her._

_He eventually came to a reluctant stop outside one of the bathrooms, back slumping against the wall as he slid down to the cold tiled floor. He barely noticed it nipping at him through his shorts. He dug the heels of his hands into the sockets of his eyes, groaning out low about his own idiocy. He was always the one she went to when she cried and now, she had nowhere to go. He had trapped her in herself. He had put all this pressure on her, stressed her about his own issues and desires to time travel. Why? Why had some part of him insisted that he ‘needed’ her, that she was the key to everything?_

_Five raised his head up as it floated with an idea. A brilliant, enigmatic idea that would definitely prove to all parties that he could do this by himself. No more straining pressure, no more doubts. And the perfect moment to enact it; tomorrow._

* * *

_He didn’t find Nelle. He didn’t even see or hear from her until they were called to dinner. She ate in silence like they were supposed to, but not once did she look up to meet his gaze. He couldn’t even see her eyes beneath the way she held her head so low, blonde hair falling around her. But the red flush in her cheeks and the still-wet trails told him all he needed to know; she was still crying. Five felt the full force of its impact, deep in his chest. He wasn’t hungry._

_And then it was bedtime. They each had to clean their teeth and don their pyjamas and get into bed for a ‘good night’s sleep’. There was no opportunity to intercept her and it was easy to see that she was avoiding him anyway, or at least trying to act courteous for him, removing herself from his interaction so he wouldn’t have to deal with the inconvenience of her existence._

_So, he waited until they were all in bed and he waited an uncomfortably long period of time, desperately hoping those fading footsteps would stay far away. He slipped carefully out of bed and blinked his way into her room with a quiet ‘fwoom’._

_Nelle was turned away from him, head deeply rested in the pillow as she slept. He couldn’t bring himself to wake her, but he also couldn’t leave without apologising. Even if she didn’t hear it, he needed to say it. There might not be time in the morning._

_“Nelle, I…I didn’t mean to shout at you earlier. I wasn’t even angry with you, I was angry with..with Dad. You didn’t deserve any of that and I’m- I’m so sorry, Nelle. None of that was meant for you. I’ve just been so pissed for so long and I…I took it out on you. I know you were looking out for me, but I meant what I said about you being able to do it; I just shouldn’t have asked it of you. God, I’m such a selfish moron and I need to get over myself.” He sighed. “I should never have you dragged you into this and I’m done with it. I’m going to show Dad that I don’t need to wait, that I’m ready now. I promise I’ll be back. I just hope you can forgive me until then.”_

_He sniffled, wiping his nose. He hadn’t realised he’d started crying. Five scoffed under his breath. He didn’t consider himself a sensitive person. He brushed off any injury with ease, was usually the one in an argument spouting the best (and usually more hurtful) comebacks and he knew he was better than every one of his siblings anyway, so there was no need to waste thought on that. But he felt like Nelle. Did she feel like this when she cried? Did the tears sting in that unpleasant, yet remindful way? Did she both wish she could stop and snuff it out as well as wishing all of it out at once? He wasn’t used to this other feeling either, scoring deep in his gut; some burning pit of bitterness against himself._

_Whenever he’d looked at Nelle, he’d always admitted her weakness to himself. But he also knew that she was one of the strongest of the Hargreeves. He could tell because she gravitated towards the least of all of them; Vanya. It was him that had taken an interest in her before she had found hers in him. Of course, from a distance. Pure curiosity and speculation. Nelle and Vanya, the invisbles hiding away in their studies, melancholy notes of a violin carrying from the room they were both sat in. Five had always wondered about Nelle’s onslaught of tears amidst her stubborn silence. She didn’t know how to fight back, and he reckoned it ran deeper than simply not ‘knowing how’ to fight back or stand up for herself. If she could see everything, she already knew what to do. She was scared of that knowledge, which was why she shrank away from it. Five had encouraged her not to. He wanted to help his sister because she had helped him. He always told her it was because of her own potential and wanting to help her in that respect, but the more honest truth was that he wanted to care about her the way she cared, not just about him, but everyone. No matter what they did or who they were. She always tried to care. And she wouldn’t leave them even if they protested, even if they kicked and screamed and threatened because she knew what they really needed. Five always thought that had been related to her power in some way, but he had more recently begun to accept that it was just part of who she was. A perfect reflection of who he wasn’t._

_He moved over to Nelle as she slept soundly. At least in her sleep, she couldn’t cry. Not until her REM cycle had rolled in. She was at peace for now._

_“I’m so sorry.” He whispered again, gently tucking a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear and, before he could think twice about it, he placed a soft kiss to her temple. He owed an apology to every part of her, but he was intruding as it was, and he didn’t want to risk waking her._

_He left in silence, walking back this time in case his jump disturbed her. He’d dealt enough unnecessaries to her for one day. Tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow was always different._

* * *

It’s always a curious how such little can teeter the balance of a usually ‘taken-for-granted’ kind of a thing into the heavy perspective of an undying need to quench that sudden, prolonging and unabashed thirst. To even let those cold, meaningless droplets run down and leave tiny wet stains on the tablecloth seemed a terrible waste. If they weren’t in public, Nelle couldn’t have been certain of the willpower over her own tongue that was devilishly tempted to gather those escaping droplets, as if it would ease the clashing cymbals in her head any faster.

A languid sip sounded from opposite her in the wicker chair that was trying its best to fit in with the quaint aesthetic of the bustling café. It had to be somewhere busy, somewhere teeming and brimming with life and noise and chaos just to create some privacy for their own conversation. They didn’t want quiet. Quiet was too easily preyed upon and pried open. Quiet was rarely a ‘good’ thing.

As if being tugged by fraying strings, Nelle’s eyeballs dragged their way up to meet the raised brows behind a still-steaming mug of coffee. As he set it down in front of himself, she noticed it was indeed as empty and plain as he had requested from the distracted waitress, eyes frazzled and wide as she kept sparing third glances towards the child on table 4 that was dangerously close to causing her another spillage to clean up before her shift ended. No milk, no sugar. Just black. Nelle gave a twitch of discomfort and relative unease. The smell of caffeine was stinging cloyingly at her nostrils.

Her hand attempted to pour the rest of the icy water down her throat, but all that it granted her were a few measly dribbles. She felt the sinking tug in her arm that she had already tried this. Five’s unchanging expression was all the confirmation she needed. She groaned out low as another tremor crept along her brow and she pushed aside the two empty glasses with disdain.

“I told you not to drink them so quickly.” At her eye-roll, he scoffed. “Enjoy being sick, then.” He raised his mug at her as if to drink to that notion before he enjoyed another mouthful of the stuff.

Nelle rubbed at her temples. “I’d forgotten what being sucked into those things was like…”

Despite the ruckus around them - the constant ringing of that bell by the door, the scrapping pair of dogs tied up outside that were impatient for their owners who were having a rowdy gossip in the queue – they could hear each other perfectly. Perhaps it was those brief lessons in lip-reading their father had insisted upon or maybe they just knew each other’s voices so well, even after all this time…

Five set down his mug again, but his hands kept playing with it, swirling it around as he created a gentle whirlpool in the dark liquid; a harmless vortex that wouldn’t be taking anyone anywhere, but might deal them a painful burn if they left a finger in there too long. He liked his coffee hot.

“Who were you? In the clinic. You weren’t being yourself; you were trying to be _someone_.”

Nelle shrugged with a tired motion that looked more like she’d dislocated a joint and had barely felt it. “So was Klaus. You asked us to pretend to—"

“No. You didn’t need to be anyone. You could have just stood in the corner in silence and it would have sufficed.” His jaw grinded in a jerking manner, as if he were grinding wheat but the machinery needed a good tending to after months of neglect. “I don’t get it. I happen into your life again after I’ve been gone for 4- 17 years and ask blindly for your help and you not only agree, but you get yourself done up in a makeover and act like someone I’ve never seen you as.”

His sister didn’t quite know how to respond to her brother’s rant, chewing on the gathered spit in her mouth before trying to force it down her throat as a replacement for the lack of water. She rubbed at her nose with a small sniff, but she wasn’t crying. For once the sniff was just that. “It wouldn’t matter how many years went by, whether it was just one or decades more; you’d always be my brother. And I’d still need to apologise and make amends for what I did.” It came tumbling out in an unexpected splurge and she pinched at the bridge of her nose. The natterjack in her abdomen squeezed its warty self out of hibernation in her gut and bounded to attention in her stomach, ricocheting off the muscle wall in a panicked frenzy.

Five’s hands tightened in a vice around his mug, knuckles whitening as she feared he was actually attempting to squeeze the thing until it shattered. It wasn’t until she caught a pained wince that she realised he was burning himself against it. Nelle thrust her hand across the table, knocking over one of the empty glasses and letting it roll around in a dazed circle as she tried to pry her brother’s hands away from the hot ceramic. He flinched with an audible gasp, perhaps unaware that he was even doing such a thing to himself. Regardless, he avoided her gaze and lowered his hands down to his lap, not allowing her the merest glimpse of his palms. Still, he said nothing.

Nelle grew increasingly more agitated. Did he need to hear more? She supposed she owed him everything. All of it, everything and then some. “It was my fault. It was all my fault.” Even a mouse would have strained itself trying to hear her, but Five showed no signs of needing her to repeat something, glancing over his mug at her intermittently. “If it wasn’t for me, you never would have jumped on your own. You wouldn’t have got stuck in that future…all alone.” The natterjack was doing enough backflips to shame an acrobatic stuntman for a Hollywood superhero movie. Show-off.

The blonde fisted the tablecloth harshly, creating unsightly wrinkles in the freshly ironed cotton. Five only responded by bringing his coffee back towards him from the shifting cloth, taking it by the handle this time. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, she was watching the memory replay in the reflection of the standing glass. She saw that same little girl banging against Five’s door in the middle of the night, begging to find him on the other side, sobbing her apologies until she wore herself out and her mother eventually found her in such a state, carefully picking her up and putting her into her own bed. She saw Vanya in the kitchen, holding her hand out as she handed her two slices of bread and watched as her sister proceeded to lay them out on a plate and slather them both in peanut butter. She saw the last sight of the fifth Hargreeves as he turned and fled from the dinner table. She tasted everything she’d wanted to say to him since the moment she’d stormed away from him in the attic.

“You were always there for me. You helped me in ways I never got the chance to repay. And when you needed me…when you asked for my help, I- I pushed you back.” Nelle wished for the familiar comfort of her tears, to at least have them to reassure her that what she was feeling was right, that they’d been waiting to give this apology as long as she had, but they yielded nothing. All dried up with nothing to offer her remorse. A sign that it had been too long after all and not even her tears had expected his return.

“If I had j-just been on your side and…supported you, I could have brought you back. Safely. You _were_ ready, Five! I know you were, but…but only with the training we’d done together. And even then, I still stepped aside…Jesus, I was so selfish! I didn’t even think about what you would do and— _fuck!_ ” Groaning loudly, she slammed her elbows onto the table louder than she’d intended, fingers deeply rooted and entangled in her mess of (once neatly styled) blonde hair. “I tried everything to bring you back, I swear I tried everything, but nothing would work and nothing happened and you still didn’t come back and not even Dad would let me focus my training on it or anything and it was like he didn’t even care, but instead of a funeral or remembrance service, he hung up that stupid portrait and it was all I could remember you by, but it wasn’t you at all!” She hadn’t taken a single breath, a stream of words erupting forth from her mouth all at once. Her brother didn’t even show signs of respiration, he was so still.

Cautiously, Nelle wound her fingers out of her hair, scoffing as she looked over the mostly stoic façade of her brother. He seemed unfazed by her breakdown, but he hadn’t reached the point of criticising it, which seemed unusual. Even in a teasing manner. He did take a slow sip from his coffee, though, at which a surge of exasperation cut through her mostly overwhelming state of disorder and guilt.

“I’ve only dredged out the last 17 years of bleeding pain; you could at least say something!” It had begun to feel as though she actually were sitting across from a 58-year-old man, deprived of social interaction and any kind of meaningful mutter of conversation being targeted at him after 17 long years of disappearance to ripen it up. It hadn’t fermented well. But it was more than her outburst that had unsettled him. He didn’t know how to react or what to say. He was trying too hard to think of the right thing, or at least something that would ease the weighted burden on her mind.

Five tugged at the tie against his neck, slowly shifting his green eyes to meet hers. She looked older than him with that weariness in them, all the hollows of her skull revealed beneath as she hung her head in that way, the fractured shadows from her loose hair not helping. He decided to be honest. “I…I don’t know what to say.” His lips mouthed, trying to reach those elusive words of unfiltered truth. “I can’t remember the last time someone talked to me for so long; at least not in a way that mattered, n-not like this.” His voice shook and he felt as though he were shrinking right back into the mindset of the little boy he was living inside again.

“But Nelle, I was never waiting for an apology.” He didn’t allow himself the urge to blink, but it was hard with something stingingly pricking away at his eyes. “It was _never_ your fault. And I am the one who should apologise to you for…well, more than I wish I’d have to.” He muttered the last bit to himself, but never broke eye contact with her.

Nelle didn’t dare speak, not wanting to risk cutting him off or interrupting that train of thought he’d tried hard to pursue and hunt down by that concentrated focus in his gaze. She felt his feet tap against the sides of her own underneath the table, resting there calmly. As if it were a purring cat, the natterjack was content and settled, happily soothed with the soft pressure as it churned out warbling croaks of happiness.

“I’m sorry I used you for my own selfish ambitions, that I took your powers for my own advantage. I told myself that I was helping you too, but really, I was only ever helping myself.” He growled and lowered his eyes slightly for the briefest of moments, as if to scold the younger self still lurking in this body. “It was always just about me back then; I didn’t know about the bigger picture.” His attention flickered back to Nelle again. “I’m sorry that I blamed you when all that anger was building up against Dad. I could never be angry with you, Nelle. Not for long and certainly not forever.” His left foot brushed a little firmer against her right. “But the thing I regret most is that you spent all that time thinking it was your fault. The one person in that house who actually listened to me and she spends the last 17 years blaming only herself.” He laughed humourlessly, but there was something lurking beneath it.

Nelle quickly interceded. She knew how he hated to cry, much less in public. It was an uncomfortable sight to see him try and choke down a sob and she rushed her hand over to his shoulder, standing up slightly as she leaned over. Nothing else needed to be said on the closed matter, so she didn’t say it. It was enough and it felt good. For once.

“You should drink your coffee before it gets cold.” She announced, sitting back down again.

Five spluttered out another laugh, but this one sounded more genuine, fuller. She smiled as he brought the mug to his lips and he downed the rest of it in an impressive swig.

“Worth the $4.50 I paid for it?” She teased, having been taught by the very best (who was seated at the very same table as her) on how to lighten any grim situation with a teasing remark.

Her brother shrugged, apparently back on form. “You did say the coffee would be on you, although I do have to say…not bad at all.” He inspected the bottom contents before setting it down with a triumphant ‘thud’ against the table. “I’m curious, dear sister.”

“How can I enlighten you, _dear_ brother?” Nelle dragged out the mimicry of his own endearment.

Five didn’t spawn any colour of amusement on his features. “What was Klaus referring to?”

The blonde paled, folding her arms around herself in an odd pretzel. It looked anything but natural. “About what?”

“’Lovely, little night-time activities’ I believe was the phrase he used. What was he referring to?” He reiterated, brows raised, but lips in an unnervingly neutral line.

The filthy subject had finally reared its ugly head. She could try blaming Klaus, but it was only a matter of time before it came up and lying to him would have soured the old internal injuries like curdled milk left in the midsummer sun. It was a natural thing for a person to grow and change over the years, leaving the shell of their younger self and becoming a new being altogether, but Nelle had always feared with each extra passing day that if Five were to return, he wouldn’t recognise who she’d become. Or worse, he wouldn’t like it. It shouldn’t have mattered, but she had felt as though he was making her into the person she wanted to be and without his guidance, she had faltered and taken on the structure of a stranger the boy would never have willingly acquainted himself with.

Nelle fidgeted like a teething toddler, chewing against the mouthful of explanation that could have happily filled a barrel and a half with all its squirming variations, splashing around like slimy eels writhing on top of each other. A disgusting depiction of her own disgusting truth. Her tongue blackened with all the vile things poised on the muscle that she could confess to him. Only a sliver dribbled out to begin with.

“I run a flower shop. It’s a small thing on the street corner that gets crowded with more than two customers in at a time, but it’s a nice business. The apartment space upstairs was where I stayed initially until the lady retired from the shop and offered me the place as long as I kept running the flower business as usual in memory of her husband. So, I did. I still do.” Nelle cleared her throat, finding it oddly dry and tight despite the two glasses of water she had downed in less than a minute of each other. “That was what I was happily doing when I was still the little girl you knew.”

Five frowned at her, but he didn’t say anything. Nelle took it as permission to continue.

“I found Klaus one evening by chance. I didn’t even realise it was him until I heard his voice and saw his face. He’d been puking in one of the flower vases in the outside display. He recognised me too, but he was really, _really_ drunk. Completely out of it. I just took him inside and let him have the couch for the night. It ended up being 4 and he was unconscious for the first day and a half. When he was sober…well, more sober than he had been, he offered to repay the favour and asked me for suggestions. When he found out I had a non-existent nightlife or much of a social life at all, he insisted on dragging me to this strip club.” She cringed at the memory, burying her head in her hands for a few bracing seconds before she could resume her trip down memory lane. “I didn’t want him to actually owe me anything, so I said yes. I got separated from him when he went to the bar to get drinks and I got lost trying to find him. I wound up backstage by accident when someone shoved into me and they assumed I was one of the strippers working there and just ushered me into a changing room. I don’t know what was running through my head, but I didn’t see a way out of it. I just put on the outfit and headed onstage with the other girls. It didn’t feel…completely unnatural.” She confessed with a big sigh that drained strength from her slumping shoulders, so she looked like a hunched over old lady. “After the performance, one of the girls picked up on the fact that I wasn’t actually a stripper employed there, but she offered me a job anyway because apparently I had ‘talent’. I still don’t know if that can even be a compliment. But that’s what started my night-job. And I was ashamed of it, initially. No one wants to admit that kind of work, but…” a strange smile played on the corners of her lips. “It was nice having people look at me instead of through me, for once. To have them listen to me and let me have a bit of control because they’ve never assumed that I’m just some weak girl, which was something I never expected from it.”

The smile quickly disappeared as she found Five’s unwavering eyes still pinned on her like the crosshairs of a hunting rifle on a prized buck. She shrunk back against the booth’s sticky leather, face crumpling. “I was with a…a client the night that I heard about Dad’s death. The guy was asleep, and I was getting dressed ready to leave when it came up on the TV.” She shrugged, groaning out through her nose in pain. “I’m not the innocent girl I was when you left, Five. I’m not worth protecting or caring about anymore. I’m just like any other hooker you’d find in some seedy bar or a back alley. And I’m sorry because it’s not what—”

“You grew up, Nelle. You were never going to be a little girl forever, so don’t blame yourself for that. And you don’t get to decide if other people should care about you or not. It’s like you said; you’re still my sister.” He let that linger in the air. “And we all do shitty things. The ‘adult stage’ happens to all of us…even if it doesn’t necessarily look like it.” He muttered the last part, looking over himself.

Nelle moved her foot to press against the outside of his left show, beaming at him with a genuine glow in her eyes. “I was dreading that you’d never want to talk to me again.”

“Because you do what literally every human being does?”

“I never would have imagined myself doing it when I was younger…” She mumbled like a shy schoolgirl.

Five pressed into a foot firmly with reassurance. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Nelle. Don’t get it into your head that there is.” He raised his brows meaningfully at her, waiting until she lifted her head with that adorned smile replenished on her features once more. Much better.

* * *

“I’m sorry it always goes like this.”

“What do you mean?”

Nelle glanced over at her nonchalant brother, hands in his shorts pockets as he strolled along the sidewalk with a frequent adjustment to putting his shoulders back as if he’d forgotten they didn’t weigh as much as the two complete Oxford English dictionaries he was making them look like as he sagged into an older posture.

She had subconsciously copied his pose, both hands in the pockets of her oversized jacket. It was perhaps too young for a woman of her age, but it was comfortably, warm and had a snuggly fluffy lining. Plus, hood! It was in the sale and the price tag had ‘yes’ written all over it. In bold. She’d at least had the mind to bring it with her to avoid the odd looks she’d be given whilst dolled up in such a conspicuous ‘50s attire.

“Well,” Nelle scoffed a little, gesturing with her hands still buried in her pockets. “I mean everything always being less than ideal, family members dying and fake eye…shenanigans. Nothing’s ever calm or- or normal. Ever.”

Five tutted, shaking his head. “Did you ever expect that it would be? With this family?”

She tilted her head at him curiously, brows creasing.

He chuckled. “We didn’t choose it, but that’s just the hand we’ve been dealt, little sister.”

“About that.”

“Yeah?”

They came to a slowing stop on the side, leaving enough space for other pedestrians to walk past.

“Even if you’ve aged 45 years at some other point in time, you were still born on the same day at the same time as us. Ergo, you’re still just ‘brother’. Not ‘bigger’ or ‘older’ in any logical way.” Nelle looked down at him, her point emphasised with the height difference. It was an attempt at lightening the darkness he must have attached to all those years alone, but Five’s mind was elsewhere.

He gave a sigh, stepping closer towards her and looking up into her blue eyes as if he were the one staring down at her from a few extra feet instead. “It’s not age that makes the difference.” Five set off again, but there wasn’t much further to walk anyway. Just a several metres down, he opened the gates to the academy manor and held them open for his lagging sister.

When she caught up and walked up the stairs again, she noticed her brother wasn’t walking up with her. She stopped and turned to him. “You not coming?”

He swung the gate back and forth, not meeting her gaze as he rocked on his heels slightly.

Nelle walked back down, holding the gate steady in her hand. The black metal was painfully cold against her open palm. “Five.”

He released the gate, hand finding its way back inside his pocket again before he looked up at her. “I have to run an errand.”

“What? What does that mean?” She crossed her arms over her chest as a shiver racked through her from an unexpected breeze. How her brother was tolerating the cold was a most peculiar mystery. He must have had skin thicker than the Earth’s crust.

“I’ll be back, I just need you to wait here for me until I do.” Five took a few steps back from the gate, ready to depart.

Nelle was conflicted. She still needed to explain things to Vanya, but what if Five was headed on some dangerous task again? She couldn’t let him go alone. “No. I don’t want you running into trouble and coming back bleeding and looking like hell.” She had pushed the gate open, but Five had closed it back against her, keeping her within the academy grounds.

“I’m just meeting an old friend. No trouble.” He smiled, sincerity and promise in his young eyes. “You don’t need to worry about me, anyway. I’m—”

“But I do!” She protested, still clutching that freezing gate defiantly.

Five let out a breathless laugh to himself, as if he couldn’t understand what language she was speaking but knew the meaning all the same. Not the exact translation, but enough to get by. “I know it’s asking a lot, all things considered, but…just wait for me?”

Slowly releasing her grip, the blonde woman nodded and stepped back. “Okay.” He stepped away from the gates at that but didn’t look away from her face. “You’ll be back?”

“Promise.” He nodded, turning to leave when she caught him once more.

“Five! I’d...I’d like to meet her. Delores, right?”

He seemed almost surprised that she had remembered her name, but a warmth bloomed in his chest at her thoughtful attention and he knew that Delores would want to meet her too, put a face to the endless rambles about this ‘Nelle’ he’d wittered to her about. “You will.”

* * *

A scathing discordant note rang out through the main room of the apartment, a grating, startling noise that definitely could have been the cause of Mr Puddles’ latest disappearance. Or anyone’s.

“Oh! You’re really just going for it.” Vanya was trying to be polite and courteous to her newest student who was currently holding the poor violin he had basically violated less than a few seconds ago with a sheepish grin on his face, holding the bow more like a utensil than anything else.

“Yeah.” He seemed somewhat proud of himself. Well, as proud as a thirty-something man in a knitted sweater and brown slacks could look whilst brandishing an instrument he was far from trained to play could look. But before he could strike another piercing chord, his teacher was quick to relieve him of his chosen weapon.

“Um, no, I’ll actually take that.” Vanya helped him lower the violin and took the bow from his disappointed hand. “And we’re just gonna start with the basics. We’ll get back to this, but for now I’ll just put these over—”

The ringing of a phone went off; the cute white rotary on the table. The brunette sighed, an apology in her brown eyes as she held up her hands. “I’m so sorry, do you mind if I take that? I wasn’t expecting any calls and—”

“No, no! Not at all! Please, I’ll just, er, just get comfy here.” The man, Leonard as he had introduced himself, pulled the armchair closest to him a little closer and sat himself down in the plump cushion, hands clasped together in his lap as he waited patiently with a constant sniff he had to wipe away with his thumb.

Vanya nodded before making her way over to the landline, picking up the receiver and holding it to her ear. “Hello?”

_‘Vanya?’_

“N-Nelle? Is that you?”

_‘Vanya! Oh, God…I’m so sorry about this morning. I was right behind you, but…Five was acting strange. I should’ve given you a heads up and I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I hope you got home alright?’_

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Vanya swallowed an unexpected glob of bile. “Was he okay? He said he was just gonna get some rest.”

_‘He’s fine. I was being overly cautious, as usual.’_

Vanya chuckled softly on her end, looking over her shoulder at her waiting student. “Hey, listen, I actually have a student waiting on me. Do you mind if I call you back?”

_‘Oh! Yes, of course. Sorry, I should have known you were busy. I’m just at the academy so call me back on this number if you need to reach me. Good luck with your student.’_

“Thanks. I’ll call you later.”

_‘Okay, take care!’_

“Yeah, you too, Nelle.”

_‘Goodbye.’_

“Bye.” She put the receiver back on its holder and nodded to herself, turning back to Leonard. “I’m sorry about that. Just my sister. Where were we...? Um, yeah, so the basics. We’re just gonna be going over the strings of the actual violin and the notes and then hopefully we can get you onto some scales.”

Leonard leaned forward, apparently eager and excited to go. “Alrighty. So, what’s first?”

* * *

Unsurprisingly, the manor didn’t envelop Nelle in a warm embrace or offer her a cup of tea or hot cocoa to regale the story of her day’s events by the freshly lit hearth. It was never the building that spawned such fondness. It was a robot Wilma Flintstone with a constant shade of eager readiness painted over her red lips. She wasn’t there either, but she probably wasn’t accustomed to guests. Did she even have programming tailored to such an occasion? It was always possible with Reginald Hargreeves’ intellect and foresight, but it seemed bizarre and unlikely. She hadn’t exactly rolled out a red carpet and put the kettle on for the tattoo artist that had made a somewhat disgruntled appearance that left the Hargreeves children bemoaning any other unplanned visitors or ‘surprises’ from their father.

Nelle rubbed at her lips in a manner she had adopted ever since her swimming head had pulled itself ashore and found an uncomfortable stranger in the reflection of shop windows as she walked down the streets with her brother. Her hand had smudges and stains of the faded red lipstick, but she hoped that most of the colour had at least transferred from her lips. Lipstick was always reserved for other circumstances. Dark evenings where she was anyone but Nelle Hargreeves.

It was a little too familiar, the way she unshackled herself from the heels and relished the bare footed heaven against the cool marble floor. Her shoulders sagged and she could feel the burning strain of her bra as it dug into her skin a little too much beneath the yellow garment. How she craved the baggiest pair of trackies and the fluffiest socks as she cuddled up with a blanket and pillow on her couch and sipped from a well-deserved cup of tea. That ‘normal life’ seemed so far in the distance now. A fever dream. As if she’d simply fallen into a coma in her childhood bedroom and awoken to find her father dead one morning 20 years later.

After using the downstairs phone to call Vanya and explain herself, the blonde faced the creaking stairs for the upward climb to her bedroom. She wanted to sleep or cry or something. Whichever came first. She felt grimy with dirt and makeup and sweat, but she couldn’t face a bath or shower. She’d either slip under and drown or just stand there with poor posture until the water ran cold. Too much thinking would trigger a vision and her brain had been throttled enough to make soup already thanks to Five’s unexpected jump.

“-I still come here from time to time…when I’m missing you kids.”

The unmistakeable, perfect English accent of Pogo rang out like the silver bells of church on a wedding from down the hall just as Nelle was turning towards the bedroom wing. She paused, heels in her red-stained hand as she tried to listen for who Pogo must have been talking to. She couldn’t be sure which of her siblings were still here and which had decidedly moved on with their lives from the brief reunion.

The crackling sound of static pinched and rattled her ears as muffled, indistinct voices sounded from what must have been ancient recordings. Her brows raised with the realisation that the room down there must have been the old surveillance and security room. How…odd. Who had the familial chimpanzee taken along with him for some recollection and nostalgia?

“Pogo, this is…most families have home movies to look back on. We have surveillance footage.”

Allison, apparently. Nelle shrugged. It was something to do. Perhaps a bit of uncomfortable reconciliation with their past would be a welcome relief. She had started to forget the little girl that had lived inside these walls. It wouldn’t be terrible to remember her. And by the sounds of the conversation within, Allison was supposedly unhappy. What were sisters for?

Approaching the door sheepishly, she pushed it open a bit more and gave a rap on the wood with her knuckles.

Allison turned mid-laugh, a smile still manifesting onto her face. It looked different when it wasn’t plastered on a magazine, when there was no perfect lighting or photoshopped background. She looked natural and happy. Nelle felt her own mouth twitching at the sight, glad that her presence hadn’t caused it to diminish. Pogo seemed pleasantly acquainted at her arrival as well, nodding in greeting.

“Nelle! Come here, come look at these.” Allison stepped over the threshold and took her encouragingly by the arm, guiding her closer to the blue screens. She giggled once more, pointing to a frame focused on the living room, where a young Diego was juggling knives willy-nilly, as though a circus performer. “Oh, my God, look how little we were.”

Her hand then lowered to a screen of the kitchen where her young self sat opposite a young Luther and tried to discourage him from something. As her sister became enamoured with that particular tape, Nelle’s gaze dropped to a screen showing her own younger self, schoolgirl bob and all, beneath the corner of a staircase with a book in her lap, the camera only managing to get half of her in the shot with the awkward angle. Another uniformed Hargreeves child appeared, impressively balancing themselves on their hands as they walked in with a slight wobble here and there. Nelle remembered it clearly. She’d been reading a book Ben had recommended by Oscar Wilde, ‘The Picture of Dorian Grey’. And it was Klaus that was walking on his hands. In about 4 seconds, Klaus’ elbow would bend, and he would suddenly crumble too close to her. She wouldn’t realise until his shadow was right on top of her, but a hand would catch her wrist and whisk her out of the way just in time as Five teleported her across the other side of the room. She didn’t remember her head swimming quite so much back then. Even now, she wondered where Five had been watching from and why. He had told her it was by pure chance as he had been walking past, but she couldn’t see him on the camera.

“Oh! Ben and I?” Allison had switched her attention to one of the bottom screens where she and the late Hargeeves brother were conversing outside a bathroom. “I miss him so much.”

Nelle drew her attention to that screen too, her brows crunching together at the breath-taking sight of seeing him so happy. And alive. “I miss him too.”

The sound of a violin playing pulled both of the sisters’ eyes to the screen showing a young, dedicated Vanya proudly holding up her instrument as she strung off a sweet melody by the hearth and their late father’s chair.

“And Vanya.” Allison slumped back at that, visibly shrinking as confusion grew on her face. She sighed softly to herself, looking to Pogo as if he knew everything there was to know about the obscured details of their childhood. “Why didn’t we include her? I mean if anybody treated Claire like that, I can’t even imagine…”

The melody came to a flourishing finale and a round of soft applause came from the tape as Vanya gave a bow with her bow.

_‘That was so beautiful!’_

Allison’s eyes widened as her head snapped to look over at Nelle who was still standing and now had an antsy wander in her eyes and a stifling heat settling over her bones. On the tape, her young self had been listening from off camera and had now run up to hug her.

_‘Thanks!’_

_‘Was that…the Russian guy?’_

_‘Tchaikovsky, yes. Dad found some old sheet music and gave it to me.’_

_‘It sounded amazing!’_

Nelle fidgeted uncomfortably, shrugging at her staring sister. She acted as though she’d been freely playing and standing in close proximity to a leper.

“You were a child, miss Allison.” Pogo rested his hand on her shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze.

It didn’t seem to do much. She shook her head in frustration. “That didn’t stop Nelle.”

The blonde woman opened her mouth to say something, but the air was too full with Allison’s cloud of anger and bitterness towards herself for her words to breach.

“I’m not a child anymore.” She concluded. “And neither is she.”

Pogo looked over to Nelle with the knowledge of something she felt excluded from. But he spoke before she could question it. “If you’re not in a hurry, the rest of the tapes are in that cabinet.” He motioned with a dip of his head, standing up with his cane. He chuckled softly as Allison quickly turned to look it over. He retrieved a dull, scratched key from his pocket and dropped it into her palm. “Make sure you two lock up when you go.” He glanced between both of the young women. “Things have been disappearing lately.” He dropped no names, but there were less than a few likely contenders as to who he was referring to. “These are too important to lose.”

Nelle watched as he lingered, catching her blue eye again before shuffling along and heading back out into the hallway. She hesitated, but decided it was better left alone. She wasn’t in the mood for more digging. She’d let the earth rest and put aside the shovel while she could still hold it.

“Come sit. I want to see if we can find the recording of Klaus running down the stairs in Mom’s heels.”

Nelle scoffed aloud at the irony, looking to the heels she had in her hold. It wasn’t the right climate or response apparently because her sister fixed her with a curious expression until her eyes fell to notice her attire and the state that she was in.

“What…where have you been? Or should I say ‘when’?” Allison mused, looking over the very ‘50s dress. She took the heels from her with relative ease and inspected them before taking a closer look at the smearing on her hand. “Is this all Mom’s?”

“Um…yeah.”

Allison set the shoes aside on the table, folding her arms as she frowned with concern. “What’s been going on with you? I know we haven’t seen each other since…since we both left, but you’ve been off ever since Five’s been back. I know you two were close when we were kids. It must be weird having him back.”

“Like a ghost.” Nelle found herself biting at the tip of her tongue, trying to catch it in the perfect position under her incisors. She hadn’t realised she’d been lowered down into the other chair until Allison’s hands slid off from her forearms.

“What’s going on, Nelle? Is this something to do with him? Are you in trouble?”

“No, no. I’m fine. Everything’s…fine. I just…I don’t know.” She huffed, slouching against the table’s edge in exasperation. “I just figured something like this would help.” She mumbled with her lips pressed against the surface unevenly.

“What? Going out in public dressed like Mom?” Allison snorted teasingly, but all amusement dissolved from her face as Nelle raised her ‘very serious’ head up. “Hey, maybe this will help. Yeah?”

Nelle smiled weaker than a cup of a quarter water and 3 quarters milk tea, but she nodded, tucking herself in as she surveyed the many displays of childhood memories.

“Let’s see if there any good ones out already…” Allison seated herself once more before proceeding to rummage around in the boxes of loose tapes under the desk. “This one? Yeah, let’s give it a try.” She reached over to remove the current tape and insert the newly selected one when a certain tape lying out with its label torn off caught her attention.

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure. It was just sitting there.”

“Play it.” Nelle mumbled.

Opening up the box, Allison popped the tape into the VCR machine beneath a blank screen and sat back in the chair next to Nelle after pressing play. It whirred away busily to itself for a few beats before a successful click sounded the beginning of the recording.

It didn’t take long to realise the tape had been left unlabelled for a reason and perhaps shouldn’t have been left lying around so accessibly either. Or perhaps it should have been. It felt planted. Whatever the real reason, the footage was incriminating and indecipherable. Nearly unwatchable given the exact content entailed.

“Oh, God.”

“Was that-?”

“Dad…”

* * *

It had been raining for a good few hours when the boy’s black brogues splashed through the recently birthed shallow puddles that lined the car park tarmac in the divots and potholes that marked its imperfections. The dark clouds that had mysteriously appeared after lunchtime had been rather unexpected; the uninvited, sober one at the Mad Hatter’s tea party. Its meagre drizzle could be tolerated without an umbrella or hood, but it was the kind of splatter that seeped through the thickest of jumpers and left perfectly clean hair looking much like one had adopted life under a bridge as a hermit for a few weeks.

The boy had been wandering around town all that time, searching every department store that had a notable display of mannequins, knowing the one in particular he was looking for must be propped up and fully dressed in marketed attire. His search had been relatively unsuccessful thus far and hours of walking in the dreaded drizzle had aged up his youthful appearance to that of the years he carried in his temples. But there was something almost hopeful about the brightly lit red letters above this department store. ‘Gimble Brothers’, it read in an unwavering, never flickering (probably freshly changed bulbs) illumination.

He was met with locks on the glass doors, dormant from their daytime automacy. It presented little hindrance as he pushed beyond the plane’s barrier and across the space through one of his vortexes so he was inside the building instead. Checking briefly for any nightguards or security waiting to go off, Five moved slowly over the threshold, hands back in his pockets as he headed straight for the ‘clothing’ section. More specifically, under ‘women’.

With the lights off, it was hard to make anything out that didn’t blend into the dim setting as a darkened silhouette or misshapen blur of something. He found a torch in the maintenance section along with some batteries and put them good to use for his brief period of ‘borrowing’. Five shone his path ahead, making a headway for the mannequins. He passed some rather off-putting, faceless ones swiftly, suppressing a shudder as he turned his back on them with a certain reluctance. And then…he saw _her_.

Like a pretty doe caught in his single headlight. He stopped and he smiled. An old, familiar warmth bloomed in his chest and he could have sworn he felt his heart quieten down just so he wouldn’t have to be distracted by its sudden hastened beat. He strode easily towards her, positioned between two other mannequins. With a yellow beret atop her dark wig, she looked much like a French model on a magazine cover in some foreign café. The kind of café that always had idyllic, sunny weather, charming neighbours and a casual smoker whose lungs never seemed to catch onto the fact that they were breathing in a pack of poison each day.

Five came to a standstill as he reached the block she was stood on, swallowing thickly as he tried to regurgitate the words he had meant to say to her. Should he apologise? Was it necessary given the time he had yet to spend with this version of her? All those years together yet to come, that now, ironically, he hoped never would given the catalyst that would cause their meeting in the first place.

“Delores.” It felt so good to be able to greet her like that again, to gaze up into those gleaming green, painted eyes. Not that she ever met his eyes directly; always looking up into the distance, to something better, a simple smile on her pink lips as she always kept that hope alive in him.

“It’s good to see you.” Five felt as if he could choke on the words he spoke if it was the wrong one, if he thought too long and hard and the emotions welled up. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of her. Not if it was a first impression. “I’ve missed you…obviously.” He scoffed to himself, unable to look away from her. There was too much he’d missed in all of her recognisable features. Even as she stood in such an unfamiliar stance with both arms and even legs attached to her torso. It was like meeting his parents before they’d met, though such a notion in that exact context was entirely preposterous with all the details in mind.

Delores always knew what to say. Perhaps that was the real reason he’d sought her out. He never needed to say goodbye or apologise to her. She always understood. Which was why he needed her counsel.

“Well, I…it’s been a rough couple of days.”

But just as she was about to respond, a frenzy of gunfire tore straight through the calm and quiet. Bullets ripped messily through the neatly positioned display of mannequins.

“NO!” Five yelled out, wishing he could have taken Delores down with him when he ducked, but he was just quick enough to avoid becoming a bullet-riddled, pubescent schoolboy pinata for a couple of mask-wearing company loons.

A particular shotgun blast managed to cut right through the middle joint that kept Delores rooted to her frame and her torso tumbled off as her body was pulled apart. Holding his breath and steeling his nerve, Five dared a risk round the edge of the clothing rail he was hidden behind. As soon as he recognised the blue and pink of a certain cartoonish bear and dog, he knew he was screwed. _They’d_ sent professionals now.

“Oh, shit. It’s them!” He hissed to himself. He needed an out. They couldn’t catch him and he wasn’t about to lay down and die here. His green eyes drifted to the dismembered body of his apocalyptic companion, her hand outstretched towards him. He wasn’t leaving her to die here either. Not even thinking it through once, he rushed out during a reload and cradled the mannequin into his arms, scuttling into the next rails for cover as the firing started off again. He felt safer and more confident already with Delores back in his hold, a small whisper of a ‘thank you’ gracing his ears above the gunfire.

Five moved further inside the hanging clothing, tucking his old friend safely out of harm’s way with a lingering hold on the back of her neck. “I’ll be right back for you.” He promised, resting her down gently before drawing the goons’ fire with a sudden sprint down the aisle. As soon as he heard their gunshots following him, he opened a vortex and jumped across to the next aisle. He had to repeat this several times. They were relentless. But they were also curious. He’d had the upper hand with surprise as they must have not been informed explicitly about his ‘abilities’.

“You see that?” A woman’s voice mumbled from under the pink dog mask.

The stocky build beneath the blue bear mask gave a shrug. “You said he was special. So now what?”

The woman grunted in frustration, but she was not one to give up easily, not when the fish was in the barrel. “You start over there, I’ll go to the other end. Meet in the middle. Shoot anything that moves.”

Slivers of white light scanned across the darkness inside the store from atop the guns they were mounted on. Five had made his way over to the garden tool section and managed to find quite the dangerous looking garden trowel with a serrated edge. He gave it a testing swipe, nodding to himself before he checked around the corner for his proximity to the dog headed woman.

She was close enough for a jump and he seized the opportunity, appearing behind her and slashing at the side of her, slicing clean through her left shoulder in one motion as she fell with a pained groan. The blue bear was ready to retaliate, firing swift shots from his shotgun. The woman recovered and now they were hot on his tracks, hunting him down with brisk pacing and a steady stream of fire right on his crouched heels.

He was desperately retracing his steps back to where he’d left Delores. He couldn’t leave without her. It was out of the question. But carrying her whilst running for his life would be awkward in this situation. Five’s eyes darted around frantically for another option when they fell upon a dark canvas bag. He could make use of the handles as a makeshift backpack. His brain had no time to process the idea as he began stuffing her inside rathe brashly. She’d forgive him for that.

He was too far from the exit for a jump. He’d have to run for it. And so, like a panicked hermit crab, he scampered with Delores tucked away on his back in the bag. The added weight was cumbersome, but necessary. He could live with a couple of bullet grazes here and there.

Finally close enough, Five made to jump, but he was denied entry across the planes. No vortex opened up. He was out of gas.

“Shit! Come on!” He tried forcing it, adrenaline spiking now, but that had never worked. It would just have to be a frantic dash. Joy.

When he burst free from the blessed cover of clothing rails, he made a clumsy vault over the garden-tool shelf and stumbled off from the other side, panting heavily as he turned to look into the bright lights aimed dead at him.

It took one glance away at the glass doors where police cars had rolled up outside to give Five enough time to disappear.

“The bastard jumped again.” Came the gruff voice of the blue bear.

Already flicking the safety back on and hoisting her gun away, the pink dog sighed. “Come on, let’s go.”

With their receding footsteps still painfully loud in his ringing ears, Five tried to steady his breathing as he stayed closely huddled behind the cashier desk, clutching Delores tightly to his thumping chest. He may as well have been a scared little boy trying to hush a baby to sleep as sirens blared outside. And he realised that he was.

Except Delores was not a baby.

* * *

Entering the Academy was never easy. Security wasn’t a thing to worry about and no one in their right mind would attempt a break-in anyway. It was like Hogwarts, only half the size and without that childlike wonder and awe of magic. It was more like Hogwarts during detention with all the worst professors. Did that make Sir Hargreeves Dumbledore? It was uncomfortable to dwell too long on. Tangent aside, Five never seemed to be able to make it up one flight of stairs without bumping into some hindrance, most commonly in the form of his siblings, it would seem.

He had hoped to slip past the two as they seemed intent on their own destination, but Allison caught sight of him in the shadows.

“Five? What the hell happened to you?” She looked him up and down in shock; his rumpled uniform, bedraggled hair, soaked socks and the occasional stain of blood form his to-be-discovered wounds. Luther hovered over him in relative silence, but his eyes were drawn to the odd shape in his bag that he didn’t recall the boy carrying in tow with him when he’d dropped from the vortex in the sky yesterday.

The hulking man must have felt the weight of his own silence too because made an act out of clearing his throat and straightening up, brows furrowed. “Are you okay? Can we help?” He reached out towards his brother, but Five was still on edge, still twitching with the last dribbles of adrenaline. He’d hoped walking all the way back here would help burn the dregs of it off, but he was still jolting. He caught Luther’s wrist in mid-air, holding it up and away from him with surprising strength from his skinny arms.

The boy took a few shaky breaths, a pant still in his throat. “There’s nothing you can do.” He muttered darkly, a grave, solemn sheen in his green eyes. “There’s nothing any of you can do.” Five relented his grip and adjusted the straps on his shoulders, making for his room. He doubted he’d get any sleep, but he needed rest. He had another mountain of a situation to handle and digest.

There was no further comment or interruption from his two siblings, but he supposed they had somewhere to be anyway. Good, they should keep themselves occupied with something meaningful and important while they still could. But part of him had hoped not to see Allison again; that she’d instead got on the soonest flight she could get back home to be with her daughter. There was something strangely nice about knowing he had further family, someone not born from mysterious, inconceivable circumstances or raised under this roof. Maybe there was a normal Hargreeves after all. He’d like to keep it that way as long as possible, world willing…

Opening the door to his room, he found that the blinds had been drawn down and the bedside lamp switched on, ready to greet him for the evening. It was then that he noticed another of his siblings perched on his bed: Nelle. In much more casual attire.

Five huffed a sigh that could have stuck his lungs together they flattened so much. He kept his gaze on the floor as he trudged over to his bed, noticing that Nelle stood up as he came closer and moved aside so he could place his bag down on the bed and lean his hands against the mattress, stretching out his tense shoulders.

“Five?” Her voice was just above a whisper and it resonated with that same constant frequency still buzzing in his ears from the proximate gunfire. He ignored her, but she didn’t seem put-off. She kept the metre’s distance he’d tolerated between them and folded her arms across her chest, frowning harder the longer she looked at him for. “You’re bleeding…again?” Something pained and terse shuddered out from between her teeth as she pinched the bridge of her nose, chewing away at her lip. “What was it this time?”

There was no rising anger in her voice, she was surprisingly patient whereas he was not. His hands rolled into fists on top of the sheets as his jaw ticked. He was stiff and rigid as a wooden plank, yet a simple pair of guiding hands sliding off his tattered blazer softened his muscles to jelly. He couldn’t remember such a gentle touch. Five’s features melted as he fell into a slump. She had repositioned him accordingly, shifting the bag into his hold and turning him around so he sat down on the bed in its place as it sat in his lap.

Nelle folded the blazer up neatly despite its ragged appearance and set it aside on his bedside table, glancing down at the bag he was now clutching onto tightly. “Would you like some help with that?” It wasn’t sarcastic, but a genuine request, one he didn’t reply to, but a request all the same. Courtesy. Older people always appreciated respect like that.

A beady green glare fixed on her through the matted mess of his dark hair, but as she came closer and took hold of the zip, it too softened and faded away. His white-knuckled hold diminished and permitted her to unzip the bag and reveal the relieved face within.

It was much like opening a present on a special birthday and finding a beautifully crafted doll within. It was a mannequin, or what was left of one anyway, but it had a simple smile and delicate eyes brimming with more life that she thought a piece of moulded fibreglass could possess. Whoever had painted or designed it certainly knew what a pretty human looked like, at least in a more caricature manner.

Five scoffed under his bated breath, moving his hands underneath its back as he brought it out from the bag and rested her more suitably in his lap, his thumb rubbing a bit of fluff from its pronounced cheekbone.

Nelle could see the glow in his face, the sheer joy and comfort as he was able to embrace it. This was his old friend, his companion through thick and thin for so many years. Like a child’s first teddy bear, but there was something more in the way he looked at it. This mannequin was more than just something given to him that he had kept for so long which had made it so precious; it had remained the one constant in his living hell of nothing. It had been the sole pillar keeping him upright, keeping him going and ultimately bringing him back here.

The young woman felt as though she was intruding on a private moment. “You’ll have to introduce us when I come back.” She clarified, heading towards the door to leave him in peace for a few moments.

“Where are you going?” His voice could have been that of a timid, croaking child who had never not been in the presence of their mother who was now leaving the room.

“I’m going to get a first aid kit. You should clean those up before you go to sleep or else they might—”

“I don’t need help.” He grunted out, burning a dark hole in the sun-bleached wallpaper even as Nelle turned back to face him. She was only grateful it wasn’t directed at her face. “I don’t need someone to take care and look after me. I survived in an apocalyptic wasteland for 45 years!” It didn’t sound entirely like he was really addressing her. “I didn’t need anyone then; I don’t need anyone now.”

The blonde lingered in the doorway still. “You’re really telling me that all that time by yourself, you never once wanted someone to even ask if you wanted help; just to have the offer?” Five’s gaze dropped from the wallpaper, slowly snaking across the floor to Nelle’s feet. “I know you don’t need my help, but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t prefer it. There’s nothing wrong with wanting things to be easier, even if you could still do it by yourself. You don’t have to anymore.”

Five looked up at her now, the bitterness of the old man paling at the venomous truth he was now faced with. Delores in his arms seemed to share the same sentiment.

“I know you think that when someone is trying to help you, it’s only because you’re weak or pathetic. Its not. This isn’t my pity or apology; this is just the debt I owe you. For helping me when I was younger, for making things easier for me.”

She didn’t wait for his reply. He didn’t have one anyway. She went straight for the medicine cabinet downstairs, fetching the emergency first aid kit and retrieving some spare bandages and antiseptic.

“Nelle.”

Startled once more, not one second after she’d closed the cabinet door, there was Grace looking plaintive and curious twinkle in her well-crafted eyes. Nelle’s own were wide and her mouth had dropped open as if she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar at midnight.

“What are you doing, sweetheart? Who’s hurt?” Something shifted inside of her at that audibly, a whirring _‘tink’_ as her pupils flashed, ready to engage her programming.

A fussing robot mother was probably not something the exhausted Five was prepared to deal with right now. Smiling, she gently dismissed her mother. “Nobody, everything’s fine, Mom. I promise. I’m taking care of it.”

She dreaded Grace might have picked up on that, but instead she reached towards her face and stroked her thumb over her cheek tenderly with a soft hum in her muted voice. When she pulled away again, a new expression ignited on her features. “I’ll make cookies for the boo boos.” And she swept away with the mellow sound of her heels clicking. She never heard them coming, only leaving…

But as she was stood here, watching her mother’s form disappear around the corner and into the kitchen, she mused on how she would seem nothing but a piece of plastic, a machine, to anyone else when she could never be anything less than their mother. The one who had raised them and cared for them truly in their young lives. And Delores, Five’s mannequin…she was more than just fibreglass to him. While it was sad and painful to think that she had been his only companion, she was grateful nonetheless that someone had been there for him, even if not ‘alive’ in the proper sense. She could understand. And it didn’t matter.

Upon returning to Five’s bedroom, Nelle found he had already removed the rest of his layers, now sitting in bed in his vest and shorts, murmuring something unintelligible to the painted face in his hands. He noticed her presence, however, and greeted her as she walked in again, a brighter look in his eyes that was more welcoming that it had previously been.

He cleared his throat, propping Delores upright in his lap and beckoning his sister to come closer. Nelle moved the desk chair round to alongside his bed, sitting down on it and raising her brows as Five nodded his satisfaction and gestured to Delores.

“Nelle, I’d like you to meet Delores. And Delores, this is Nelle. My sister.”

Nelle smiled plainly, dipping her head politely at the mannequin. “I’m glad I could meet you, Delores. Five has spoken fondly of you. I wanted to thank you for keeping him company and for being there for him.” It wasn’t like talking to a person, but she knew it would help ease her brother’s troubled mind and so she indulged him. It felt good to say it indirectly to him instead of outright.

“I knew you’d get on well.” Five grinned to himself before turning to his sister again with beaming approval. “She likes you.”

“That’s a relief. Otherwise stitching you up would be a goddamn nightmare.” Nelle thought aloud as she inspected the cut on his upper arm with a wince. “Yeah, this one definitely needs stitches. Are you okay if I stitch you up? I can go find some morphine if—"

“It’s alright. I’ve fixed myself up with less in worse circumstances.”

“I won’t ask.”

“I won’t tell.”

Nelle opened up the kit, unsheathing a sterile needle and thread, holding it up to the light as she looped it through the tiny hole and shifted closer to Five’s wound. Setting the needle and thread aside, she soaked a cotton bud with antiseptic fluid and swiped it over the torn edges of flesh. He didn’t flinch or hiss at all, but his other hand tightened around Delores’ waist.

After cleaning it up, she pressed lightly along the edges and pierced through with the needle, noting the twitch in his face as she went as swiftly as possible while maintaining a neatness. After tying off the end, she covered it up with a colourful kids’ plaster, smoothing over it.

“There. I think that’s the worst one.” She mumbled, looking over the rest of him. His other injuries were very minor compared to that one; a few grazes and scuffs on his knees, a couple of nicks and scratches on his face and his fingernails needed cleaning. She tended to each one dutifully as he kept his quiet and let her work.

“I know she’s just a mannequin.”

Nelle had begun packing everything away now when Five had spoken unprovoked.

“I’m not…crazy. I know she’s not- but she was something to me back then. She was something tangible, something I could hold onto and protect. She was like—” He caught himself, glancing back at his blonde sister. “She was like you.”

The young woman parted her lips to speak, to comment on the wary subject he had been brave enough to approach in the first place.

“You know that glass eye? The one I’ve been carrying around, interrogating that guy at the clinic about?”

“Yes?”

“I found that 45 years ago. In Luther’s hand.”

“What do you mean?”

A mournful shadow had fallen across Five’s face as he delved down into that morbid history that would forever be scarred in his memories. “He was lying underneath all these bricks and steelwork; dead. You all were.” His voice wavered and his hands trembled. “Allison. Diego. Klaus. And…and you.”

He wasn’t looking at her anymore and he was sniffing, wiping at his nose constantly. He was trying not to cry. He had shed so many tears that day, it was shameful.

“Hey.” Nelle hushed him softly, running a hand through his knotted hair. He needed a shower, really, but he was shattered. He could wash in the morning. “Why don’t we tuck you in so you can get some proper sleep? Your 13-year-old body is definitely in need of some rest.” She urged, helping him manoeuvre with Delores in his hold as he descended beneath the sheets. Upon his request, she placed Delores on the desk, so she was nearby. Apparently, according to Five, she didn’t like to lie down. She looked suited to the place and so she left her there and moved back to Five, sorting the pillows out for him and adjusting the covers.

“You’re certainly acting like my mother now.”

At her halted motions and raised brow, Five smirked. “I’m kidding.” His mouth gaped in a yawn as she seated herself down in the chair once again. His eyes were already sliding shut as his head rested against the plush comfort of the pillow. It wouldn’t be long until he was fast asleep.

Nelle was about to leave, reaching to turn off the bedside light when she felt a hand brushing up against hers. It was inquisitive and searching in the way it felt along her hand, as if trying to discern what exactly it was. Testing his reaction, she accepted his hand into her own.

Once confirmed, his hand squeezed around hers, his eyes shut as he was eager for the contact he had been so deprived of. And she could never have the heart to deny him.


End file.
